The Light Within Us
by Lady of Myth and Legends
Summary: My sequel to Heavens Light Shines Upon You. 10 years after she met the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Sophia faces a new set of trials: Freeing Quasi from Frollo's ironclad grasp, saving the gypsies from persecution, and hopefully convincing her truest friend the true meaning of what it is to be loved. All while trying to avoid being married off by her widowed mother.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone and welcome to my long awaited sequel to Heaven's Light Shine Upon You. Many of you have demanded a sequel out of me so here it is! So without further ado . . . The Light Within Us!**

**The Light Within Us**

**Chapter One: **

**Ten Years Later . . .**

_Morning in Paris, the city awakes_

_To the Bells of Notre Dame!_

Indeed the city of Paris was awaking; the sound of the heavy bells that tolled from Notre Dame's twin towers seemed to ring out in seer joy and elation. Once the townspeople stepped foot outside their doors they were met with a light warm breeze and a clear, cloudless sky of blue. There was a new feel in the air this particular day, as if the very air around them had been electrified by a bolt of lighting. Even the crabbiest, sourest, most disagreeable of the Parisian people would, for once, put away their foul moods and be enlightened by the many colors, music, dancing, and of course, foods that today would bring them. For the sixth of January had could at last! The Festival of Fools!

And no one, not one soul in all of Paris, was more excited than Sophia Chevalier. As she stepped out of her small cottage (_which sat three houses down from the stone bridge_) and closed the door behind her, she closed her light blue eyes and allowed herself to take in the warmth of the sunlight and the sound of children playing in the road. She gave a contentious sigh, then slowly opened her eyes, turned left, and started down the cobbled street.

_The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes_

_To the Bells of Notre Dame_

Upon reaching the stone bridge a flash of mischievousness sparked within her. She smiled as she preceded to back up about five feet before rushing forward and jumped up onto the stone ledge. Once she had regained her balance, she skipped along the ledge swinging her arms and humming under her breath. Nothing in the world could detour her insatiable cheerful mood today. Absolutely nothing.

"Good morning Sophia!" Greeted the fisherman who sat at the height of the bridge's wall, grinning like he just won ten gold coins in a card game.

The young woman (_who had just reached her twentieth birthday two weeks ago_) returned his smile, clasped her hands behind her, leaned over, and replied, "Good morning to you too Jacques! How are the fish today? Anything yet?"

If it was at all possible, Jacques' grin grew. "I've caught three small ones and two large ones! All in one morning! If my luck keeps up, I'll have enough to take home to feed my three little ones and buy Marie a new blouse!"

Sophia couldn't contain her excitement for the young man, "That's wonderful! I did notice that her blouse was getting a little worn, I bet she'll be surprised." Then she put a finger to her chin and tapped it. "Do you know what color she likes?"

The fisherman's smile faded at the question and now that he thought about it, he found he wasn't quite sure. "No." He said slowly, "I don't."

At his now perturbed expression, the young red-head tried to find a compromise to the situation. "Well, what color does she usually wear? Or maybe, what color flowers does she usually keep on the table in the kitchen?"

He thought for a moment trying to recall the memories and after a moment or two, his face lit up with recollection and excitement. "Yellow! She likes yellow flowers!"

Sophia smiled and nodded in approval, "Then I think yellow is a wonderful color; I'm sure she'll love it."

"I know just the one! It's that light colored one that sits on display in Madame Burlesque's shop in the square!" Jacques, who could hardly contain his excitement, suddenly dropped his pole beside him and scooped up the young woman in a burly embrace. "Thank you oh so much Sophia!"

The tiny red-head gave a hearty laugh and returned her friend's hug. "You're welcome Jacques, but if you don't go back to fishing you won't be able to buy the blouse for Marie."

"You're right!" He immediately held the girl at arms length and gasped in horror. "How could I have let my mind run away with me! I must return to work Sophia right away!"

He dropped his arms from her shoulders, hastily picked up his pole, and settled himself down in his usual spot to cast the line out as far as he could. "I hope you can forgive me for my rudeness, but I really want to surprise her. She deserves a little spoiling now and again."

Sophia just laughed and shook her head. "Don't worry Jacques, I understand. I can't wait to talk to Marie after she gets  
the blouse. She'll be talking about it for months!"

The young fisherman puffed out his chest in pride. "That's right! Well, till next we meet again Sophia!"

"Bye my friend!" She jumped from the wall and continued on her way, sending her friend one more wave before he returned to the fish below.

When the young woman had crossed the bridge she came upon another one of her friends, the baker Pascal. He was coming out of the bakery carrying five large loaves of bread, each about three feet in length. He was so busy with placing them in the cart he didn't notice that the small red-head had come up on his right and leaned her whole right side against the wagon. Once he was finished with securing his source of income he raised his head and was met with Sophia's face an inch from his own.

"AH!"

The man scrambled away from her as fast as he was able. However, in his effort to do so, he lost his balance, hit his head on one of the beams of wood, and fell to the cobblestone in a heap. Sophia gasped in shock and rushed to the man's side, who was now rubbing his aching head in pain and mumbling a few choice curses under his breath.

"I'm so sorry Pascal! I didn't mean to startle you! Are you alright? You hit your head pretty hard! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Will you hush girl!" He hissed sharply, silencing her apologies almost instantly. Then, realizing that she hadn't meant any real harm, added softly, "It's alright Sophia, I'm fine. You just . . gave me a right turn is all. Try not to do that, I'm not as young as I used to be."

She nodded slowly then, with all her might, grabbed him by the elbow and helped him to his feet. "I am sorry. It wasn't my intention to frighten you."

The man huffed impatiently and rolled his eyes as he straightened his baker's hat. "You've already apologized girl, enough. I'm fine and so is the bread and _that_," He emphasized, "is the important thing. I can't afford to have my bread broken or me for that matter."

"Yes monsieur." She replied softly, still ashamed that she had injured her friend.

At seeing the sad and unhappy look on the young woman's face, Pascal's felt his hardened exterior melt and he couldn't help but feel angry at himself for being so hard on her. His expression soften and when he spoke he was calm and more gentle.

"Truly Sophia, it's quite alright. I'm sorry I was short with you." Then he added with a laugh, "No pun intended."

The small red-head laughed in return, "Quite alright Pascal. Consider us even then."

She extended her hand in friendship for the large man to grasp. A large smile crossed his burly face as he grasped her tiny hand in his rather large one. At seeing her smile, the old baker couldn't help but feel his heart swell. The girl has always been like the daughter he never had. He cared about her greatly and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to hold his own daughter in his arms. For you see, the baker and his wife had lost their first and only child the moment she was born. She was born still and her body was small. Too small. The doctor said that she had come a whole month too early and that she never even had the chance to take one breath in this world.

And so, Pascal looked at Sophia has his own even though she had her own parents; good ones too. Though over the past year, the girl had been spending as little time at home as she possibly could. Her mother was in the middle of trying to find a suitable husband for her and her father had died two years ago from the fever. Ever since, whenever she needed someone to help her or just hold her, she had come to him and Clare, his wife. They had even opened the room that was made for their daughter to Sophia, who refused at first but when they wouldn't hear of it, finally excepted. Though, she rarely used it at all. She only kept a few of her belongings in that room, things given to her by her most greatest of secrets.

_To the big Bells as loud as the thunder_

_To the little Bells soft as a psalm_

Sophia's head snapped up sharply to the left, her gaze falling on the sight above the neat row of houses: The two towers of Notre Dame. Again, the bells tolled. She was late.

"Sophia?"

She returned her attention to her adoptive father, whose eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes concerned. He grasped her hands tightly in one of his and gave them a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry, it looks like I made you late for offerings again. I know how you love to spend your free time at Notre Dame. I'm sure your father, God rest his soul, would be very proud of you for your dedication. Just know that God also wants us to live ours lives outside those stone walls. Don't forget to live Sophia, please?"

She offered him a small, but sad smile. "I will Pascal, you and Clare are really too good to me. I just wish . ." She paused, not sure how to continue. "I wish mother would stop with the courtship arrangements. I'm not ready, I don't think I'll ever be ready."

Pascal frowned, "I know that it's difficult right now, but you must marry if you are to survive Sophia; you can't make a living on your own. Besides," He smiled softly. "There's someone out there who sees you for who you are. Once you find him, then run as if the very devil is after you! I promise I'll hold your mother back so the two of you can make your escape."

She couldn't help but smile at his words and then, without warning, she threw herself into his large arms and buried her head in his chest. "Thank you Pascal! But, I don't know if there is such a person for me."

As she spoke the last of her words she knew she was lying. There was someone who she loved deeply, very deeply, but it could never be. It wasn't possible. Besides, she wasn't even sure if _he_ felt the same in return. Her greatest secret, her greatest lie, her hunchback of Notre Dame. She was in love with the bell ringer of Notre Dame. She lied about giving alms every other day, she lied about where she had gone when she returned home late, and she lied that there was no man in Paris that she could grow to love. She already loved one man, but the world would never approve. Not her mother, not Jacques, not even Pascal and Marie. None of them would understand; could ever understand.

_And some say the soul of the city's_

_The toll of the Bells_

_The Bells of Notre Dame!_

Her heart belonged to someone the world would never love. The every person who the people of Paris feared above all else: The Hunchback. And she was late to meet him.

"I-I have to go Pascal. I'm late enough as it is."

Oh how she hated to lie to him! It tore her soul to lie to very man who had been more of a father than her real one. Oddly enough it hurt her more to lie to him and Clare than to lie to her own mother. But lately, all Lea Chevalier cared about was marrying off her daughter and receiving enough money from her Sophia's would-be husband to pay for her living and tax expenses. If she didn't marry soon, they would lose their home and everything they had worked for over the past twenty years.

But despite this, Sophia just couldn't bring herself to do it. To marry a man she didn't love, let alone someone she never knew. Was she a coward? Was she selfish? It was a classic tale of love and owe, only this time, it was very much real for her. And there was no way out.

Pascal smiled down at his adoptive daughter, unaware of her inner toil and plight. "Of course girl, off you go."

As she speed off for the cathedral she heard him call out behind her. "Try not to be late again! Your mother worries enough!"

_So now here is a riddle to guess if you can _

_Sing the Bells of Notre Dame!_

She ran, pushed her short, yet muscular legs as fast as she could. She weaved around carts of fruit and vegetables, around stalls of goods, and as she turned the last corner she spotted a group of gypsies performing a dance to music. One woman in particular had caught the attention of every man watching the performance: a young woman with long, wavy ebony hair. She wore a simple purple skirt, a white blouse that hung around her shoulders, her dark hair was tied back with a light pink band, in her left ear was a single golden hoop earring, and a golden anklet hung around her right foot.

But the ebony-haired woman wasn't performing alone; dancing along by her side was a rather handsome white goat. He bounced around her to every beat of the music, thoroughly enjoying the attention from the crowd. As if to prove that he too was apart of this marvelous group of people, he too wore a single golden hoop in the flap of his right ear. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

A worn purple hat sat in front of the gypsy group, enticing people to throw in a coin or two. Sophia, who was one to enjoy such music and performance, couldn't help but toss in a total of three gold coins. That left her with one coin left to give to offering at Notre Dame, but in her mind and heart, she felt as if she had done nothing wrong. These people had to live too and plus, they were performing such wonderful music and entertainment, so why not? Was it so wrong to give them something for their talent? For their hard work? Was it wrong to try to reward people for something a simple as giving the people of Paris something to enjoy? Something to be happy about?

Again Notre Dame tolled and Sophia was suddenly reminded that she had someplace to be. She had stood up her friend for long enough; it was time to go. She set off in a mad rush through the square and up the stone steps of the cathedral.

_Who is the monster and who is the man?!_

Through the giant front doors of Notre Dame she continued to run, dropping her single coin into the donation box without missing a step. Up, up, and up the spiraling stone staircase; by now Sophia's heart felt that it would burst from the confides of her chest. It protested, pleaded with her to slow down and stop. But she would not, she only kept running; kept going. Across the rose balcony, up another set of stairs, and finally, through the South Tower's small wooden door where her truest friend dwelled within: The bell ringer of Notre Dame, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the one who held her heart, but unfortunately, never even knew he had. Quasimodo.

_Sing the Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells,_

_Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells,_

_Bells of Notre . . . DAME!_

**There you have it, Chapter One. I'll try to have 2 up as soon as possible but I am working on another story and I work for a living. That's right poeple! I have whats called A JOB, which means I won't be able to up date every single waking moment. So patience on this would be great!**

**And now, a special thank you for a special someone . . .**

*****pulls someone from behind a curtain*****

**Everyone! Please give your undivided attention to . . **

**drumroll please . . **

**THE IMAGINATIVE LIGHT!**

**That's right people, without this wonderful person standing right here beside me, I wouldn't be able to have this story return! So a round of applause for Ms. The Imaginative Light!**

**Take a bow please Ms. Light we all know and love you!**

**That's it for now everyone! Goodnight!**


	2. In the Eyes of a Friend

**Welcome back my friends to the latest edition to The Light Within Us. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. This story really means a lot to me since it's about my all time favorite Disney movie! Anyway, on with the show!**

**Chapter Two: **

**In the Eyes of a Friend**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He gave Big Marie's rope one last pull before jumping off one of the many wooden beams that made up the inside of the tower and sliding down another rope in order to slow his decent. Just as he landed solidly on the wooden floor, the small door to his tower was suddenly flown wide open so hard that it bounced off the wall behind it with a loud _bang! _There, standing in the doorway, was the small form of Sophia. Her face was beet red and she was clutching the front of her pale blue blouse right over the heart. She looked as if she was about to keel over right then and there in his front door. Without missing a beat, he rushed to her side just as she slid down the right side of the stone door frame.

"Sophia!" His musical voice gasped in shock and concern as he gently grasped her by the shoulders in the effort to keep her steady. "W-what happened?! Are you hurt? Is someone chasing you? Is Master . . ?

At the mere mention of Claude Frollo, his guardian, the young woman grimaced. "N-no Quasi. H-he's not even here yet. A-am I too late? When is he coming again?"

Before the young hunchback could answer, she suddenly broke out into a ragged coughing fit and curled in on herself in the effort to force air into her lungs. He felt his concern for her escalate to a whole new level at seeing her in such a state. Besides his master, Judge Claude Frollo, she was his only link to the outside world; one of the very few people he interacted with on a daily level. While Frollo was harsh and intimidating, Sophia was something else entirely. She was gentle, kind, and patient with his faults and mistakes. She never once struck him or looked at him with cruel, disgusted eyes. She loved to laugh and many times, just stayed silent so she could hear him ring the bells or listen to the sounds of the city below them.

But she was very firm in her opinions as well, her opinion of his master for instance. She hated the judge with every fiber of her being and it was a subject they had argued over for the last five years of their friendship when they were old enough to understand. He hated being disagreeable with her, but he owed his very life to the older man. Frollo took him in when no one else wanted him, gave him food, shelter, and an education. He saved him both physically and spiritually, letting him live in a church close the Lord our God.

But Sophia wouldn't hear of it, she insisted that Frollo cared nothing for him; that the judge kept him in the tower away from the world like he was some kind of animal. This lead to Sophia's greatest problem with his master, the main reason why she hated him so. Frollo insisted that he be kept away from the world because they wouldn't understand; that the world would only be able to see him as grotesque and hideous. A monster. Frollo certainly was not shy at pointing that particular fact out for him every day.

Needless to say, Sophia didn't take to that all too well. In fact, it was during their arguments over this that she would become quite angry. She would throw up her hands in aggravation or cross her arms over her chest and throw out a hip or even resort to shouting. She never hurt him, she never threw things, but she simply narrowed her eyes at him and accused him of seeing what he wanted to see. It was a subject that always ended badly and one they could never resolve. It was their weakest link in their friendship, but luckily one that never forced them apart for very long. They simply agreed to disagree on the subject of Judge Claude Frollo.

As he knelt beside her, it suddenly came to Quasi that a cool drink of water would help ease some of the discomfort. He released his hold on her shoulders and leaned her back against the stone frame of the tower door. "Stay here," He urged her quietly but sternly. "I'll be right back."

He turned and raced up the wooden steps to his living quarters in search for his water bucket that sat just below the shelf that held the tableware that was reserved for when his master paid him visits. Deciding that it would be easier to take the entire bucket and label with him, he grabbed the handle of the wooden container and flew back down the steps. However, he stopped short halfway down when he saw the small young woman standing at the bottom with her hands clasped behind her back.

"I'm fine Quasi." She offered him a wide smile as a peace offering for not staying where she was told. "Truly. I was in such a rush to get here that I threw all caution to the wind."

Even though a part of him was partially upset that she hadn't stayed still and rested, he was gladdened by the fact that she was no longer in any pain or discomfort. He returned her smile with a crooked one of his own and shook his head.

"I should have remembered that you recover quickly, no matter what the ailment may be."

Sophia just laughed at his observation and bounced up the steps to stand with him.

"I missed you." She told him softly, suddenly embracing him. The young hunchback felt his heart pound harder against his chest at her words and a strange heat rose to his face. "I'm sorry I haven't been to visit in a while. Mother . ."

He felt her breath hitch as well as heard it and through her embrace he thought he felt her heart speed up too. Again worry wormed its way into his stomach, tightening into hard coils and making him feel slightly ill. In all the years he had known her, Sophia never hesitated to tell him anything that was on her mind. She never felt like she had to hide from him and shared more about herself than she had with anyone before. So why? Why now did she feel to choose her words so carefully?

"Sophia?" He spoke with great care so as not to seem demanding or hurt. He gently removed her arms from around him (_he did this one handed because he still held the water bucket in his left hand_) and placed the wooden vessel on the step above them before returning his eyes to her face. "What is wrong? H-has something . . ." He paused, so unsure of himself. "Happened?"

He gazed at her with worry and concern, because for once, she looked _away_ from him! She settled her gaze on one of the many slitted windows that ran up the length of the tower, keeping much whatever expression she wore out of his sight. This, was not a promising sign. After several moments of silence between the two of them, Sophia finally found her voice.

"It's nothing Quasi. Nothing worth worrying over."

It was not her voice. It may have come from her lips, she may have formed the words, but the tone . . the tone was not her's at all! It was flat, emotionless; not sad or upset or even devastated! She spoke those words as if trying to keep whatever she was truly feeling out of her tone, out of sight. _His_ sight! Quasi felt a rush of raw emotion hit him squarely in the chest: hurt, betrayal, confusion, devastation. She was blocking him, keeping him out of whatever ailed her, something she had never _ever_ done before! He never felt such a pain in his chest since his last beating and that was three years ago! What was Sophia, his most trusted friend in this dark, cruel world, hiding from him?!

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She had no choice. She just couldn't bring herself to tell him. Her mother was forcing her to court another, who the man or possibly men were, she did not know. But nevertheless, she was soon going to be marrying someone she had no feelings for and most likely . . someone she had never met before. Sophia couldn't tell him. She hated lying, especially if it was to Quasimodo and now that she thought about it . . she never lied to him about anything! Except . . this. He couldn't know! What was she to tell him anyway? Oh, you see Quasi my own mother is going to be forcing me to marry some man I have never met before and never love because the truth is . . I love you! Yeah, like that was going to work!

As good a friend as he was, Quasi would most likely encourage her to love someone else (_insist on it really_); encourage her to find someone on the outside, someone who had no stone walls to cage him in, and live happily! It was the exact _opposite_ of what she really wanted! Quasi understood her, he listened to her, he was kind and gentle! He saw things from a perspective that no one else could even imagine! He . . he was her truest friend! Someone who had helped her through her father's death, her shoulder to cry on! He knew her like no one else! There was no way she could grow to love another, it was impossible!

"_Nothing?!_"

Quasi's devastated musical voice brought her back out of her struggling mind. It was like hearing a dog yelp in pain when he'd been kicked by a master who had previously showed no sign of aggression towards him. At the amount of hurt in his voice, she knew she had wounded him more by not being straightforward with him. But this was not something she could talk about with him. For once in her life, Quasimodo could have no knowledge of her plight. In order to protect him, she had to shield this from him. She loved him after all!

"Quasi . ." She began, turning to face him only to find that was even worse than hearing his injured, solemn voice.

His face was partially turned from her's looking at her from the corner of his one good eye, it's normal pale blue now looked darker somehow. As if all the light within it was suddenly absent. A thick lock of course, red hair fell into that single good eye, shielding the hurt that was plain as day within that eye from her, and his shoulders slumped forward as if to create a wall between them. She felt her heart plummet to the wooden floor that lay beneath them.

"Quasi, I . . ."

Sophia reached out a hand to place upon his shoulder, but as if sensing her intentions, the young bell ringer hurriedly rose to his feet and started up the stairs as fast as his nimble legs could carry him. Her hand was suspended in the now empty space that Quasi's hunched shoulder once resided. She could feel bile rising in her throat and all she wanted to do was throw her head back and scream!

What had she _done_?!

She did the only thing her body would allow her: She put her head in her lap and let out a single, soft, choked sob. Her hand fell limply to her side and suddenly she wished she could cut off the now offending limb. It was over; her life now had finally gone dark. The light that was always there to help her see, was gone and she was the one responsible. She was the one who pushed it away and now . . . there may be no way of relighting it.

_'I'm sorry Quasi! I'm so, so sorry!'_

. . . . .

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

It was some time later that he heard the door to the tower open and close softly, but no matter how you tried, the sound always echoed off the stone walls, the beams, and most of all . . . the bells. A new pang of emotion flooded through him and before he was aware of what he was doing, he rushed to the wooden railing of his living platform that overlooked the tower door. He fell against it hard, gripping the railing tightly in his rather large hands to keep from going over the side. She was not there! A cool breeze drifted through the slitted windows and seemed to circulate around him, the brilliant sun that shown brightly with new warmth had now retreated behind a cluster of clouds, and Quasi couldn't repress the violent shiver that clawed it's way up his spine and through his heart. Sophia was gone!

He felt his heart sink, somehow he thought she would have stayed, despite how cool he had acted towards her; that she would have waited him out to sort through his wild thoughts and emotions. Instead, she had left; left him to his cold, dark tower. Why didn't he just listen to what she had to say? Why had he run away?

_'Because I was afraid.' _He answered himself bitterly.

"What's going on Quasi?" Came a rather blunt and slightly annoying voice accompanied by the sound of stone thudding against wood.

He inwardly groaned and let his head fall onto the railing, nestling his forehead in the palms of his hands. This was one time he didn't want the comfort of his stone friends; the gargoyles Victor, Hugo, and Laverne. In fact, he had a feeling they were going to scold him for the way he acted towards the young woman; not that he didn't deserve it.

"Has Sophia not arrived yet?" The tallest of the gargoyles suddenly leaned over his left shoulder and once seeing Quasi's saddened expression, offered him a small smile. "Don't worry, She'll be here soon. She promised she would and it's not in her nature to go back on her word."

At Victor's last remark, Quasi couldn't help but feel another pang of guilt and worry. Sophia hadn't really _lied_ to him, but she was trying to avoid expressing _something_ to him. He just didn't know what or why. He opened his mouth to speak but was soon interrupted by another voice.

"Maybe he's sick." The horned swine commented lazily, hopping up to his human friend and giving him an intense once over.

"Humph!" Huffed the last, and only female, gargoyle. Laverne hopped up beside Hugo and gave him a stern, disapproving look. "If twenty years listening to you two hasn't made him sick already nothing will!"

Hugo gave her an insulted expression but she ignored him, turning her attention to Quasi. She smiled kindly up at him and hobbled over to pat his shoulder comfortingly. "What's wrong Quasi? You want to tell old Laverne all about it?"

He grimaced, feeling ashamed of how he had treated Sophia. How could he possibly fix this? This wasn't like their fights about Frollo; this was more about the trust they had in each other than the trust of someone else. Was he going to question everything just because she felt she couldn't tell him one small detail? Was he going to mistrust her from now on because she felt she had to keep something from him? Was he?

"I-I . . just don't feel like watching the festival, that's all."

Where in the world had that come from? Since when did he put up barriers against the _gargoyles_?! Obviously Laverne wasn't buying it because she titled her horned head to the side, crossed her thin stoney arms, and gave him a slightly perturbed look.

"Oh Quasi, Quasi, Quasi." She shook her head and sighed. "This isn't about the festival and you know it. Now, what's with the sad face and don't you dare try to wiggled out of it!"

To prove her point, she stuck out an arm and pointed a finger at his stomach. Knowing that there was no way to 'wiggle out of it', he sighed and collapsed on the wooden floor, crossing his legs and letting his head hang in shame.

"I . . ." He began softly, trying to fit the words together. "I think I hurt her."

This statement shocked all three stone creatures who now looked at him with confusion, shock, and disbelief.

"What?!"

"What do you mean you 'hurt her'?"

"Quasi, start making some sense if you please."

After a few failed attempts, the bell ringer finally conveyed everything about what happened between him and Sophia; though, not without great difficulty. Victor, Hugo, and Laverne sat quietly (_it was amazing that Hugo hadn't said one snarky comment through the whole explanation_) as their friend told them of the predicament the two friends had gotten themselves into. When he had finished, the three stone figures put a hand to their chins and hummed thoughtfully at once.

With the suspense practically killing him, Quasi rubbed his hands worriedly and struggled to his feet. If they were so intent in thought then he must have really gotten himself in a fix and especially if Hugo was thinking as hard as he looked. Finally, it was Laverne who broke the silence.

"Listen carefully Quasi," She looked at him with all seriousness and yet, there was something else in her expression that he couldn't identify. "There are going to be things that Sophia isn't comfortable with talking to you about. If you ask me, she probably hasn't told anyone else about whatever has the girl so clammed up."

Unfortunately, Hugo just couldn't resist adding a comment to Laverne's explanation. "And just what makes you the expert?" He asked incredulously.

Laverne's patience with the horned swine seemed to have run out because she suddenly turned on him and began shouting. "I happen to be female for one you stupid, fat pig! I tend to know the ways and thoughts of a young woman! Especially those of Sophia's age!"

The elderly gargoyle threw up her hands in exasperation and humphed darkly under her breath. Quasi saw this as an opportunity to get a word in edge wise.

"Then, why is she acting this way?" He pleaded, opening his hands and lifting them palms up. "I've known her for ten years Laverne, she's never hidden anything from me before!"

Victor decided to try his hand at an explanation. "Perhaps our dear Sophia does not wish to make you feel burdened by her problems. She's quite selfless you know. She's only looking after your well being."

The young hunchback shook his head, "That doesn't make any sense. She's come to me for every problem she's ever had. So why wouldn't she tell me about this one?"

The elderly female pipped up with an answer, "Because whatever it is, it's enough to make her extremely uncomfortable; so uncomfortable that she feels can't tell you. I advise leaving the matter alone and let her tell you in her own time."

The she added gently, "Quasi, forcing her will only drive a wedge between the two of you. You and Sophia have been friends for a very long time now and I know that you care about her. But you have to be patient on this one; let the girl come to you."

Quasi sighed, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear but he knew that Laverne was right; the elderly female was scarcely ever wrong.

"You're right." He sighed, rubbing one of his arms nervously. "Sophia will talk to me when she feels ready. I already saw what happened when I pressed her for an explanation; I won't do that again."

"Great kid!" Hugo cheered, throwing his short, stubby arms out. "Now how about watching that festival?"

The three gargoyles bounded ahead towards their favorite viewing spot within the tower, Quasi shuffling along after them feeling a lot better than he had before. He had always trusted Sophia in the past, so he would trust her now. After all, he knew she would never hurt him on purpose. There was a reason for why she had taken thecourse of action that she did, he just needed to let her come to him when she was ready. He would be there when she did.

**And that's a wrap for this chapter! Many thanks to all my readers and please review or PM me if you have any comments or questions. I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and please stay tuned for Chapter Three!**

**Thank you!**


	3. A Master and His Charge

**Hello again everyone! Welcome to the third chapter of The Light Within Us! I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far and don't forget to leave a review or PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Thanks a bunch everyone!**

**Chapter Three:**

**A Master and His Charge**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She may have left the bell tower, but she had not actually left Notre Dame herself. In fact, she was standing on the middle of the bridge between the north and south towers at the present moment. She just couldn't find a way to leave, mostly because she was trying to find the courage to go back inside and apologize for not being honest with Quasi. She still couldn't find it within herself to tell him the truth, but the least she could do was apologize for hurting him. She wanted to tell him and yet, she was afraid that confessing her love for him would send him further away from her.

Besides, even if she did, what was Quasi going to do? What could he do? Tell her she could live in the bell tower for the rest of her life? What about Frollo? He most certainly wasn't going to allow such a thing. What about Pascal and Marie? Jacques? Her own mother? What would they do if she suddenly disappeared? Hunt her down till her dying day most likely. Do whatever it took to get her back and that would even result in searching the bell tower because everyone would think that Quasi kidnapped her!

"Argh!" She threw her head back and screamed towards the sky, slamming her tiny fists down on the hard stone of the railing. "Is there no way out of this that doesn't end in unhappiness!"

As her anger faded from her system, all that was left behind was sorrow and despair. There truly wasn't a way out of it that didn't end in unhappiness. The most she could do was accept the reality: She was going to marry someone else, not Quasimodo. It was fact and there was no stopping it.

"Damn."

It was one of the few times she actually allowed a curse to pass her lips and this situation certainly called for it. She sent a silent prayer to heaven asking for pardon for cursing in a church. Well okay she wasn't exactly _in_ a church, she was on top of one, but that was beside the point! She was faintly aware of people laughing and whooping below her, faintly aware of the wonderful smells that floated up towards the sky only to be met with her nose. Of course! The Feast of Fools! She had forgotten it was today.

Then she frowned in remembrance, she and Quasi would always watch the festival together. Every year, she would climb up to the top of the bell tower (_sometimes Quasi carried her_) and the two of them would sit and laugh at the performers, be amazed by the music, and even try their hand at a few gypsy dances. It was such fun! Just the two of them! In the evening she would climb down and experience the last of the festivities on her own before the festival closed down for another year.

What was to become of this year's usual celebration? What was she to do? Before she could muse over the subject for long, she heard something: A familiar set of footsteps that belonged to one person and one person only. They were long strides, the heels of the shoes were hard so they gave off a sharp _clack!_, but they were too heavy to belong to a woman, too fast paced. Judge Claude Frollo!

At this revelation Sophia turned towards the sound, paused for a moment, then turned and fled for the south tower door. Upon reaching it, she wrenched open the door and slipped inside just as Frollo came around the corner. Now that she was, for the meantime, safe within the tower she had one of two options.

One: she could hide in Quasimodo's living space

Two: she could hide in the rafters

In both cases, she needed a place to hide and the sound of approaching footsteps further urged her to make a decision before it was too late. She looked back and forth between the stairs and a beam that was relatively close to the wooden floor beneath her feet. Just as the handle of the door began to turn, Sophia took a chance, ran for a low beam off to her left, and began to climb as fast as she could up into the safety of the dark rafters.

She hopped from beam to beam, trying her best not to lose her balance and fall. It was certainly not as easy as Quasi made it look. Quite the opposite, it was downright terrifying! She continued to make her way over to where Quasi's makeshift workshop and dinning area was located. Once she could make out the familiar living space, she heard Frollo's deep baritone resonate through the tower.

"Good morning Quasimodo."

Sophia adjusted her position so she could see both the cruel judge and her beloved friend. Frollo was dressed in his usual attire, black robes, black cape, and of course his tri-cornered hat complete with a long, red velvet tail. She sneered at the sight of the man and his pompous ways. He was nothing more than a hypocrite, a man who saw corruption everywhere except within himself. He was no better than the very dirt he walked on. Oh, wait . . . he rarely ever walked the streets of Paris. He always rode that black beast of a horse or that steel carriage of his.

_'He thinks he's too good for the streets of Paris! That hideous monster! One of these days I'm going to get enough courage to . . .'_

Unfortunately, whatever Sophia had planned for Frollo was lost even to her because Quasi nervously ringed his hands together and stumbled out an answer for his master.

"Oh, g-g-good m-morning, Master." He stammered out his response while stumbling backwards to make room for Frollo to get by.

She felt her heart squeeze painfully at Quasi's change in mood and behavior. When she was with him he never stumbled over his words, at least not very often, he would smile true smiles, his eyes would light up with joy, and he never felt intimidated by her presence. With Frollo, Quasi would become a frightened rabbit trapped in the clutches of a wolf. It was hard for her to see him like this, so frightened and scared and yet, he still felt the need to defend Frollo whenever she would insult the man.

"Dear boy, whomever are you talking to?" Again Frollo's voice cut through her thoughts and she felt the desire to throw something at the man.

She knew very well who Quasi had been talking to: the gargoyles Victor, Hugo, and Laverne; his only friends besides the bells. The young hunchback claimed that they spoke to him; told him all kinds of stories or gave him advice on different matters, but she had never seen them speak or even move for that matter. Most people, like Frollo, would insist that they were not real and therefore, could not do the things he claimed.

Sophia decided to let it be, though at first it seemed so far fetched to her. How could these gargoyles talk or move? But over time it became another thing she excepted about him. She didn't care if he talked to them, she didn't care if he said they talked back, and she certainly never told him he was crazy. She just excepted it and even became guilty of talking to them herself when Quasi left the room.

Quasi shifted uncomfortably under his master's piercing gaze, thoroughly not keen on giving him an answer. But, as always, he managed the answer anyways. "M-my friends."

"I see," Frollo turned and examined the stone figures that stood between him and the bell ringer. "And what are your friends made of Quasimodo?"

As he asked the question, the judge gave the tallest one, Victor, a hard rap on the top of his head. Sophia cringed, the man was humiliating Quasi without a care in the world ! She was certain that Frollo personally loved to see him squirm and writhe like a salamander caught in a child's hand. It was such a cruel and vulgar thing to do to a person.

The young hunchback outwardly winced and bowed his head. Whether or not this was out of shame or just a defense mechanism he picked up to protect himself, Sophia didn't know.

"Stone." He replied, his voice small and vulnerable.

But it seemed that was not enough for the judge because suddenly a cruel smile crossed his face as he asked, "Can stone talk?"

She had just about enough of Frollo's interrogation methods and actually rose from her hiding spot and almost jumped to the platform below when suddenly she realized what exactly she was going to do. She froze in mid-jump, then reluctantly settled herself back into the shadows. What the heck was she thinking? Jumping down there would only make the situation worse, it would only prove that Quasi had been keeping her as a secret from his master for years. Oh, the punishment he would give him! If she had followed through with her plan, it would be her friend that would suffer the consequences. As much as she hated Frollo, she would not go so far as to cause Quasi more pain.

"No, it can't." He replied reluctantly.

The judge smiled, it was a twisted form of a smile, and took a seat at the small table off to the side. "That's right, you're a smart lad. Now . . lunch!"

At first Quasi hadn't caught that Frollo implied for him to retrieve the tableware from the makeshift shelf not far from the table, but when the elderly man cleared his throat the young hunchback sprung into action. He quickly took down a wooden plate and cup and a metal platter with matching goblet; another sign of inferiority that Sophia had observed. While Frollo dined off metal tableware, Quasi made due with a common wooden set. She honestly couldn't stand it!

"Shall we review your alphabet today?" Asked Frollo as he pulled a small, black book from beneath his robes.

The young bell ring took his seat and said quietly, his head still bowed so as not to look the intimidating man in front of him in the eyes. "Yes, Master. I would like that very much."

Frollo nodded in approval, uncorked a rather expensive looking black bottle, and began filling their cups. "Very well. A?"

"Abomination."

"B?"

"Blasphemy?" Quasi questioned as if not truly sure of the answer.

"C?" The fact that Frollo had moved on to the next letter reassured him that he had indeed answered correctly.

"C-c-contrition." He stammered somewhat excitedly; he was getting better.

"D?"

Now that Quasi was gaining confidence at this game, he answered immediately with no sign of question in his voice. "Damnation."

"E?" Continued Frollo, who may have seemed to Sophia, growing bored with Quasi's apparent confidence.

"_Eternal_ Damnation."

For one moment, Sophia lost her balance and almost slipped from her perch. Quasi had said the answer with such pride and excitement that it startled her. He had even wagged his finger in the air in . . . was that a slight air of cockiness? How could he find such _joy_ in this . . this _mind_ game?!

"Good." Frollo drawled out, this time, actually sounding slightly appreciative. "F?"

"Festival."

She slapped a hand to her face and groaned softly under her breath. "Oh Quasi!"

This is where his cockiness got him; he became too comfortable and allowed the first thing that popped into his mind to escape his lips. Apparently, Frollo wasn't very impressed with Quasi's answer either because just as he had taken a sip of wine from his goblet, he spit it out in surprise.

"Excuse me?" The judge's words came quick and sharp before he raised a white cloth to his lips to remove the wine that clung to his skin.

Quickly realizing his error, Quasimodo tried to make amends by giving the correct answer. "F-f-forgiveness!"

He pleaded, asking his master to forgive him for his mistake; the expression of sheer panic alive on his face.

"You said," Frollo began coldly, standing up from his chair and sneering at him. "'Festival'."

The elderly man closed the black book that rested in his hand with a sharp _snap!_ This caused the young hunchback further panic as he tried to improve his situation.

"No!" He cried out fearfully, covering his face with his hands as if the action would somehow protect him from his master's wrath.

He said it with a mixture of disgust and irritation, after all, it was no secret that Judge Claude Frollo despised the Festival of Fools. Sophia couldn't resist the urge to actually stick her tongue out at that man, though, he couldn't see her act of immaturity and disrespect. How much of the guy was she supposed to take before he left?

Quasi on the other hand, abandoned his spot at the table and hobbled after his master. "It's just . . you go every year and I . . ."

Frollo, who by now was descending the stairs, didn't even hesitate to interrupt his charge's argument, let alone turn around and talk to him face to face.

"_I_ . ." He emphasized, taking a pompous and condescending tone. "Am a public official. I _must_ go, but I don't enjoy a _moment_! Thieves and cutthroats, the dregs of humankind all mixed together in a shallow, drunken stupor."

When the judge reached the bottom of the steps, he walked to the center of the wooden floor, and finally turned to face his charge. Quasimodo rung his hands together nervously, then stumbled out an apology.

"I didn't mean to upset you master."

What Frollo did next shocked Sophia to her very core and sent a violent shiver of terror up her spine! It actually frightened her more than his regular, sour, ridged exterior. His face softened (_or as much as Frollo could possibly have allowed_) and gave Quasi the closest thing he could manage as a passable, small smile. In Sophia's personal opinion, he should stick with the sour expression. This smiling Frollo was just too creepy! Urge!

He sighed and placed a hand on the young hunchback's shoulder before continuing. "Quasimodo, can't you understand? When your heartless mother abandoned you as a child anyone else would have drowned you!"

At that particular comment Sophia snorted in displeasure. Somehow the whole situation of how Quasi came to fall under Frollo's protection and care seemed a bit off to her. She couldn't place it but something didn't sit right with her, after all, her parents had kept her! She wasn't Paris' pentacle of beauty either! Her short stature (_which now resided just a little over four feet and a half_), her crooked fingers, and her lack of a thin figure tended to set men of her age off.

Besides, most parents loved their children no matter what flaws came with them and Sophia always believed that Quasi's mother hadn't abandoned him. She didn't know what happened, but he certainly wasn't left to die! She didn't believe in that hogwash that Frollo was always feeding him.

"And this is the thanks I get by taking you in and raising you as my son?" He questioned further, pressing his 'son' for some sort of response.

Feeling humbled by Frollo's words, the young bell ringer bowed his head and mumbled another apology. "I'm sorry sir."

The judge just shook his head slowly, the tail of his hat swaying side to side like some kind of red serpent. "Oh my dear Quasimodo. You don't know what it's like out there. _I_ do. I _do_."

"The world is cruel and wicked boy." He continued, placing his other hand on his charge's shoulder and giving him a semi-gentle shake. "It is I alone whom you can trust in this whole city because I look upon you without fear. I who keep you, feed you, dress you, and _I_ am your only friend."

Again, from her hiding place high in the rafters, the young woman snorted and rolled her eyes; Frollo was _not_ Quasi's only friend. He had the bells, the gargoyles, and of course . . . he had her. His only _true_ friend in all of Paris, except for the archdeacon perhaps. _She_ looked upon the young hunchback without fear. She could never be afraid of him, after all, she had known him for ten years for heaven's sake! She knew Quasi from the inside out and that was more than Frollo could ever claim.

"How can I protect you boy, unless you always stay in here?" Questioned the Minister of Justice intently, removing his hands and gesturing to the beams and bells above them. "_Away_ in here?"

Quasi only remained silent at his master's words, choosing instead to bow his head and look off to the side. In doing so, a lock of red hair fell into his one good eye and blocked his view of the towering man in front of him. Frollo, however, continued with his lecture as if the bell ringer's obvious discomfort meant little to nothing to him.

"Remember what I've taught you Quasimodo, you are deformed and ugly; the world shows little pity for such crimes." He spared his charge a quick glance before reaching out and snatching the young man's face in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Out there they will revile you as a monster, don't you understand? They will hate and scorn and jeer at you. Why invite their calumny and consternation?"

Now that he was forced to face his master, Quasi couldn't help the tremor of fear that shook his crooked form. His eyes widened in horror at his master's statements and tried, inadvertently, to shrink away from him. As if realizing the overwhelming effect he was having on the figure in his grasp, Frollo released him with the flick of his writs and turned for the door.

"I didn't mean to upset you master." It escaped him as a soft fearful whisper, clearly not eager to rouse Frollo's anger more.

"Do as I say and stay in here." The judge called, but as he opened the tower door he turned back to his charge for one finally piece of advice. "Just remember Quasimodo, this . ." Frollo waved a hand at the tower around them, "Is your sanctuary."

And with that, Claude Frollo took his leave of the south tower and the boy who, for the last twenty years, became its soul guardian and inhabitant.

"My sanctuary."

**I hope my chapters are long enough because I somehow feel like they're too short. Well, things will pick up a little bit in the next chapter so stick around okay. As always, many thanks to my readers and reviewers you always know how to cheer me up with your comments and encouragment! See you next time!**

**Oh, don't forget to leave a nice review in that big box down there! It's always good to hear from my readers!**


	4. A Fool's Festival

**Hey everyone, welcome back to The Light Within Us! Allow me to introduce you to Chapter Four! Not too much to say, but I hope all of you like how this story is turning out. I want to follow the movie butalso bring in a lot of diffrent elements to it so it doesn't seem repetitive. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter Four so lets have at it!**

**Chapter Four**

**A Fool's Festival**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He let out half a sigh of relief, this mostly due to his master's departure, and the other half of exhaustion, this due to yet another reminder of how dangerous it was for him outside the cathedral. He shook his head sadly; no matter how he dreamed of it he knew that nothing good could come from leaving his tower. It would end all the same.

"Thank goodness! I'd thought he'd _never_ leave!" Echoed an all to familiar voice.

Quasi gave a start and looked up into the darkness of the tower for the source of the voice, for it had come from high above. Was it . . .? But it couldn't be . . . could it? He thought . . .

"S-Sophia?" He called out, his own voice trembling in shock and astonishment.

He whipped around in a circle still trying to pinpoint where his friend was hiding. He just couldn't believe it! She was still here! Even after his poor behavior she stayed! She had stayed!

"Who else would it be Quasi?" She chuckled back down at him, still hidden in the shadows of the beams.

Oh her voice! How good it was to hear her calm, soothing, matter-of-fact voice! It sounded like water running on rocks, like how the Seine's waterline would recede in hard times so that the water would run over the rocks at the bottom. It was just a beautiful sound!

Quasi couldn't contain the broad smile from crossing his features as he called up to her. "W-where are you? I can't see you."

The sound of Sophia's laugh echoed across the tower, bouncing off the bells and stone walls, thus creating a symphony of musical laughter. In his opinion, though he would never tell a single soul (_not even the gargoyles_), her voice was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. It was a different kind of laughter one couldn't find just anywhere; it was pure and genuine. There was no masked malice or some double meaning. There was no trace of superiority in her tones or a hint of scolding in her words. It was a true laugh, one that made him want to laugh along with her.

"Hold on, I'll be right down."

As the sound of someone jumping from beam to beam reached Quasi's ears, he realized that she had physically climbed up into the heart of the tower all by herself without assistance. This shocked him because before she wasn't able to do so without some form of aid from him. The fact that she was now able to move through the tower like himself made his heart swell, She had learned a skill that no one else but he could have taught her.

When she finally came down low enough for him to see her clearly, she stopped and leaned back against one of the beams to rest. "You know Quasi, this really isn't as easy as you make it out to be."

A cloud must have passed on outside because suddenly, a burst of sunlight suddenly broke through the darkness of the bell tower and threw everything into the light. He watched, amazed as the light hit Sophia's tired face and engulfing it in a soft, golden glow. When her curly, red hair came into contact with this golden light it shone with a new kind of radiance and capturing the underlying golden hues within that bright red. It was as if gold itself had been woven into the very locks of shining copper. In that one moment, Quasi felt his breath hitch in his throat, his heart went into a frenzy of rapid beats, and he felt quite warm all of a sudden.

She looked . . . stunning!

Then, his heart plummeted. How could someone like him compare with someone like her? How could she spend so much of her time, her life, in this cold dark tower with him? Even though they had known each other for ten years, Quasi still felt so humbled by her presence. Still in awe how she kept coming to see a monster like him. That she cared about a monster like him. Why? How? For how long would this continue to last before she left him for good? How long before this dream came to an end?

"Quasi?"

"Huh?" He blinked, the sound of that beautiful voice drawing him back to reality.

In his moment of self-doubt, Sophia had found her way down from the last of the beams and now stood at the base of the large framework several feet from him. He raised his head to met her gaze but the look of concern in her eyes and expression was not what he had been expecting. She tilted her head to the side like she always did when trying to figure out something or when she was trying to see something in a different way. He always called it her 'seeing' expression because that's when she would come up with some of the wisest answers he'd ever heard.

"W-what's wrong S-Sophia?" He inwardly scolded himself for stuttering her name.

He hadn't stuttered her name in years, so why now? Why was he all of a sudden acting like a frightened rabbit? This was Sophia for heaven's sake! She'd never hurt him, never speak harshly to him, never struck him, so why was he suddenly acting like this?

She straighten her head, frowned slightly, and then looked away for a moment before turning back to him. "I-I'm sorry."

He felt his eyes widened and he couldn't help the whisper of shock that past from his lips. "W-what? W-whatever for?"

Now it was her turn to be confused, because her expression changed from sad to puzzled. "What do you mean 'whatever for'? I hurt you Quasi, that's whatever for."

"Hurt _me_?" He was so confused. What on earth did she have to apologize for? He was the one who turned away from her and didn't listen to what she had to say. "I-I'm the one who should apologize. I hurt _you_."

Sophia opened her mouth to say something in response but must have thought better of it because she closed it. He watched as she gave a soft sigh and ran a tiny hand through her red curls.

"Perhaps," She began, untangling her fingers from her hair and offering him a small smile. "We both apologize for the way we acted and move forward?"

"I think that's a good idea." Quasi replied softly, returning her kind smile with one of his shy one's.

Sophia's face lit up with joy; her mouth turned up in one of her biggest grins, her bright blue eyes seemed to sparkle, and she launched herself full force over the distance between them in embrace him in one of her special hugs that always seemed to be reserved only for him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you Quasi." She whispered into his shoulder, her hold around his neck tightening slightly. "I just . . It's hard right now. I still can't tell you why, but please understand . . there's no one else in Paris I trust more than you."

He felt his heart soar at her words and yes, he still felt slightly disheartened that she couldn't tell him what was troubling her but, at least, she found the courage to tell him that there was something bothering her. She just wasn't ready to come to him about it yet.

Quasi, in turn, tightened his arms carefully around her waist and whispered back, "It's alright Sophia, I'm here when you want to talk. I'm sorry I-"

"Don't!" She pulled away from him and held him at arms length. "There's nothing left to apologize for."

He opened his mouth to disagree but before he could get a word in edgewise the sound of trumpets blared from outside. As they both turned towards the sound, her face lit up once more.

"The festival! I forgot!" She turned to Quasi just as a mischievous grin crossed her features. She let go of his shoulder and reached for one of his hands to clasped in both of hers. "What do you say we go together?"

"What?!" He couldn't keep the shock and surprise out of his voice. "What do you mean 'go'?"

Sophia pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle. "I mean 'go' to the festival Quasi. Together. _Outside_ the bell tower."

Outside the tower?! After Frollo had just warned him not to leave? After once again being told that no one outside his stone sanctuary could ever except him? Never understand him? Leave the bell tower?! Quasi shifted uncomfortably under her smiling gaze and could tell she wanted him to go; to enjoy the world that she lived in on a day to day basis. To see for himself what the outside world was like for someone like her. The question was . . . Could he bring himself to disobey his master for the first real time?

"I-I can't Sophia." He said dejectedly, not really wanting to disappoint her.

She frowned at him and he could only guess the response she would come to. "Why? Because _he _said so? Because that stuck up, pompous, wind bag says that you're a _monster_?!"

As she spoke that finale word, her tone became sharp and slightly agitated. Quasi knew that this might not end well, but he couldn't disobey Frollo.

"_Look_ at me Sophia!" He gestured to his face and body, trying to make her understand. "They'll never see me for anything else!"

Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a piercing look, "I _am_ looking at you Quasimodo and I'll tell you this, what I _see_ is no monster."

Quasi reeled, feeling as if he had a bucket of ice water poured over his head. Sophia hadn't called him by his full name since they first met all those years ago. Her reasoning for that was that she refused to call him 'Half-Formed'; that the name didn't suit him at all and so she never called him that again. Until now.

"Quasi," Her face and voice softened, a look of sadness now replaced the one of joy. "One day you're going to have to decide for yourself who you are. I can't choose for you."

She stood there for a moment, as if waiting for him to throw all caution to the wind and say "What the heck! I'll go!", but he did not. He stood there rooted to the spot, unable to move or say anything. Sophia must have took that as his answer and turned for the tower door; just as she placed her hand on the iron cold metal of the doorknob, she turned back to him and whispered . . .

"I just want you to see how _I_ see you. You mean more to me than you can ever imagine."

And then she was gone.

. . . .

Quasi sighed as he made his way up the wooden steps and finally, the single post wooden ladder that lead to his dwelling. What was wrong today? He had two meetings with Sophia and both of them ended on negative notes. All in the same day?! Was this a sign of some sort? A clue? A hint? What was he supposed to do in the first place? Disobey his master? He couldn't and especially not after he was just reminded of who and what he was.

He made his way to the window that sat just behind his makeshift table of carvings; his replica of Paris. As he leaned against the slate, he looked out at the square that was preparing for the Festival of Fools. The very event that was the highlight of the year for him and Sophia. He sighed again, what was he to do now? Just watch from above like every year? For one day he just wanted to know what it was like to be apart of them.

"Hey Quasi!" Exclaimed Hugo, who suddenly appeared over his left shoulder. "What's going on? A fight? A flogging?"

"It's the Festival of Fools you moron!" Laverne corrected, coming up behind him and hitting the swine over the head with a stone fist. "You knew that!"

Victor decided to make his entrance by saying, "Oh, isn't it wonderful to watch the colorful pageantry of the simple peasant folk?"

At the tallest gargoyle's words, Quasi remembered Sophia's offer to take him to the festival and the guilt from earlier today returned full force.

"Yeah, watching." He mumbled miserably, folding his arms over the sill and resting his chin on his hands.

Hugo looked from Quasi's downcast expression to Laverne and Victor, raised his tiny arms and asked, "Hey, hey, hey! What gives?"

Victor, looking for all the world puzzled, hopped up on Quasi's other side to get a good look at him. "Aren't you and Sophia going to watch the festival with us?"

He winced at the mention of the young woman's name; just when he thought he patched things up with her a new problem came up. "She's already gone."

Laverne cocked a stony eyebrow at him and humphed, "Gone to the festival? That doesn't sound like her, the two of you have always watched the festival together. She usually goes by herself in the evenings."

The lone female gargoyle put her hands on her hips and, if it was possible, would be tapping a foot right about now. "What happened now Quasi? I thought the two of you would have patched things up by now?"

"We did." He turned around to face his three stony friends and leaned against the sill. "Then . ." He trailed off, unable to continue.

"Then what Pal?" Hugo hopped over and nudged the young bell ringer in the ribs. "It can't be that bad. The two of you are thick as thieves."

Again Quasi went into the details of what transpired between the two friends and this time, all three stone creatures slapped a hand over their faces at the exact same time. He cringed at their reaction and felt a new wave of guilt rush over him; today was just not his day.

"Well," Victor drawled, trying to come up with a solution and rubbing a hand over his bald head.

Laverne, however, not being one to bat around the bush, immediately spoke her mind. "Have you ever thought of going to the festival instead of watching it?"

"Sure," He answered immediately, but then his face fell and he continued in hushed tones. "But I'd never fit in out there. I'm not . . . normal."

Hugo couldn't resist the urge to not stay quiet and instead burst out, "Normal?! Come on Quasi! If ya were normal there would be nothing interesting about ya! 'Sides, seems to me that Sophia thinks you're plenty normal."

"I agree," Said Victor, nodding his head and smiling. "The young lady seems quite fond of you. Hence the reason why she invited you to the festival with her."

Laverne went up and patted him on the shoulder, "Quasi, Quasi, Quasi . . ."

Unfortunately, at that moment, several pigeons landed on her shoulders and began pecking at her stony exterior. She glanced upwards just as one of them leaned their head down and stared at her right in the eyes.

"Do ya mind?" She drawled at it, then flew into a frenzy of waving her arms and banging a stone fist on the workshop table. "I would like a moment with the boy if it's alright with you!"

The pigeons, now completely startled out of their minds, promptly flew away at her aggressive behavior. She let out a long sigh before continuing. "Quasi, life is not a spectator sport. If you watch life go by it's gonna go by without you."

Hugo frowned and reluctantly agreed, "She has a point. You're human, with the hair and the flesh and the navel lint." He shrugged, then gestured to the tower. "We're just part of the architecture, right Victor?"

The swine nudged the cat-like gargoyle in the side, causing him to clear his throat before adding in a dramatic and poetic voice, "Yet if you chip us, do we not flake? If you moisten us, do we not go moss?"

"Quasi," Laverne offered him a soft smile, putting an arm around his shoulders and patting his heart. "Just grab a clean pair of hose and a fresh tunic, then you're out the door."

He sighed, carefully removed her hand from his shoulder, and stepped out of her hold. "And what about Frollo? I'm never allowed to leave the bell tower. _Ever!_"

"Never, ever?" Asked Victor, waving his hand in a circular motion.

"Exactly!" His voice raised in panic as he rung his hands in distress. What was he to do?

Hugo snorted, "Simple. You sneak out . . ." He did a sneaking out motion with one of his hands.

"It's just one afternoon." Laverne added, waging a finger at him.

"I couldn't." He protested, shaking his head.

" . . and you sneak back in." Hugo concluded, making his hand sneak back in the opposite direction.

"He'll never now you were gone." Laverne stated, her wrists doing a pa-shaw motion.

"And if I get caught?!" Quasi buried his head in his hands in horror at the thought.

Victor, being ever the wise, came up with a solution. "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

This did little to ease his worry over the situation and responded as such, "He might see me!"

Again Hugo snorted as if that was the silliest thing to worry about, "You could wear a disguise! Just this once, what Frollo doesn't know can't hurt ya!"

To emphasize his point he took down a large, navy blue cape and tied it around his shoulders and put the hood up. He held out his arms in a "Ta-Da" fashion.

"Ignorance is bliss!" Victor added confidently, raising a finger to the ceiling and straightening his back.

"Yeah, you would know." Hugo said as he launched himself on top of Victor and rubbing a fist into his bald head.

Laverne just rolled her eyes at their antics and returned her attention to Quasi. "Nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever you know."

He took a moment to think over his friends words and advice, then remembered something that Sophia had told him.

_"One day you're going to have to decide for yourself who you are. I can't choose for you."_

Was this what she meant? That he should start making his own decisions? That he choose what he wanted out of life? All his life he'd been taught that he was a monster, that no one could possibly come to understand him. No one could possibly care for him, but she did. Sophia had accepted him for everything he was. She was his only true friend from the outside. The key to his cold, dark tower's lock. She had shown him so much of her world, a world he longed to be a part of. Now, this was his chance! His one chance to see the beautiful world that she lived in.

He suddenly leaped to his feet and shouted gleefully, "You're right! I'll go!"


	5. Outcast

**Hello once again everyone and welcome to Chapter Five! Sorry about the lack of updating, I was going through a bit of a writers block. I hope everyone has taking a liking to the storyline and it's characters. **

**This is just some info for those of you who asked some questions about Sophia:**

**I don't want Sophia to be like a twin to Esme, that was never my intention. She's a whole diffrent person with her own personality and querks. I just want everyone to be clear of that. I know some writers bring in a new OC and either get rid of Esme all together or just follow along without really gettting involved. This is not how Sophia is going to work in this story. ****Since she is Quasi's first friend it only makes sense that she's not there just for background noise and she most certainly is not there to replace Esme all together, that would severly diminish the plot line for the movie. **

**That's all I'm going to say cause I don't want to give away anymore than I have to. I'm not mad at anyone, just answering some questions that were brought to my attention. This tid-bit was only for those who wanted some questions answered.**

**Anywho, on with the show!**

**Chapter Five**

**Outcast**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Good heavens Sophia!"

The small redhead raised her head so quickly that a muscle in her neck pulled the wrong way and sent a sharp wave of pain up her neck a through her left ear. She yelped in response and clamped a hand to the now aching ear in the hope of soothing the pain.

She had been sitting at the top of the cathedral steps waiting for the slim chance that Quasi_** (**perhaps in some sort of disguise_) would come down from his tower and join her. However, after about ten minutes, she came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be coming. His fear, and much to her displeasure, his _respect_ of Frollo kept him from doing anything that might anger the man in the slightest. This only made her hatred of Frollo grow all the more.

Unfortunately, Sophia didn't have time to ponder much on her hatred for the Minister of Justice because standing before her, tapping her foot and looking all the more irritated, was her best friend Selena Delacroix. She was wearing a simple pleated, white blouse with a light brown bodice, a beautiful, dark green circle skirt, and on her feet were a pair of rich brown, leather shoes with at least an inch on the heel. They looked a little expensive in the redhead's opinion. The two had been best friends for about twelve years now, though Selena was a year her senior and quite different in personality.

The girl was tall for a young woman of one and twenty years and stood at a height of five seven. She still retained her dark, brown hair that hung fluidly down to the middle of her back and her skin was still a beautiful golden brown. Her eyes were as dark as dark chocolate and her smile was quite pretty. Though, at the moment, Selena was not smiling at all.

"For land sakes girl, what the devil is wrong with you!" Selena placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at her best friend, her dark eyes boring into Sophia's light blue ones. "You look as if that Thomas had another go at you." She stopped, then looked around for said Thomas as if to make sure the young man wasn't insight. "He hasn't had he?"

Sophia couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter and doubled over to clutch her shaking sides. "Oh goodness no! Thomas hasn't bothered me since I punched him in the face and pushed him off the bridge last summer for flirting with me."

The dark-haired young woman too burst into laughter at the memory. "I remember now! He went home crying like a baby and his mother came out and your mother came out and heck if there wasn't a bigger cat fight than that! You were confined to the house for a week!"

Sophia snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking out her curls. "Humph! He had it coming! He wouldn't let me be and kept pressing me to go to Eduard's and have supper with him. The nerve of him!"

Selena couldn't help but smirk and raised an eyebrow at her. "You know, if you keep acting like such a snob you're never going to find a husband."

The young redhead's face promptly fell at her words, a rather cross and warning expression taking its place. "Selena," Sophia warned, not wanting go down that road. "I have no interest in finding a husband right at this moment. I'm quite happy being as I am thank you."

"For right now you are." Her friend retorted, taking a seat beside her. "What about in a month or two, huh?" She sighed, then added, "Sophia, there has to be someone that tickles your fancy. At this point I don't think your mother will care who it is. The money you're making at Pascal's is good for now, but what about in the long run? You have to marry, better sooner rather than later."

Sophia felt her temper suddenly spike, "And I suppose that marriage is the only way?! Why must I rely on a man when I'm perfectly capable of earning money on my own?!"

"Because," Selena hissed, leaning in so no one else could hear. "It's not proper! A respectable and suitable girl like yourself is expected to marry! Especially now that you're of age!"

"What about you then?" Countered the blue-eyed young woman, her tone suddenly sarcastic. "I suppose there's someone already in mind?"

The dark-haired woman glared at her for a moment before she answered in an undertone, "As a matter of fact, there is! It's Pierre, Jacques' eldest. He's become quite the fisherman these days."

Sophia's eyes widened in shock; never before could she ever imagine Selena being married to a fisherman! She had nothing against Pierre, he was a fine young man of two and twenty and was honorable and kind. A real gentleman, but Selena was high-strung at times and cared a lot about her appearance. Being a fisherman's wife was not the glorious lifestyle that she would have picked for her golden skinned friend.

"Pierre?" She whispered softly, trying to wrapped her mind around the notion. "Are you . . happy with this Selena? I mean, not to say that's he's not respectable, but all the same . . ."

Sophia stopped mid-sentence when she saw the dreamy look melt across her friend's face. Apparently, Selena had indeed matured over the years; years of hardship had that effect on the vain and picky. One just couldn't afford luxuries.

"Oh yes Sophia!" She exclaimed excitedly, grabbing her hands in hers and shaking them with great enthusiasm. "He's so nice and kind! Really sweet and there's this way about him that makes my heart race, and my face gets all hot, and I feel like I'm walking on air all the time . . ."

A sudden realization came over the young redhead. What Selena was describing was the same way she herself had been feeling around Quasi for the past year. It was no surprise to her that she loved the young hunchback, but for Selena to pick out how exactly she herself was feeling was just . . . surreal! She was really, truly in love with Quasimodo, the bell ringer of Notre Dame!

"Come one! Come all!"

Both girls turned their heads towards the shout and were immediately met with a parade of townspeople and a group of gypsy performers. Leading the crowd in song and dance, was a man dressed in a gold, blue, and purple jester costume complete with purple mask and a large blue, wide brim hat with a long yellow feather. Sophia thought something about the man seemed familiar, however, Selena on the other hand, recognized him immediately.

"It's Clopin Trouillefou!" She whispered excitedly, leaning in to put her head close to Sophia's. "The king of the gypsies!"

"King of the gypsies?" Asked the redhead incredulously, raising an eyebrow in question. "I didn't know they _had_ a king."

"Of course they have a king!" Selena scoffed, then rolled her eyes in response. "Come on! Let's get a closer look!"

The young brunette took hold of Sophia's arm, pulled her to her feet, and practically dragged her through the now growing crowd for a better view of the musical performance. She watched in amazement as the gypsies danced, singed, and caused the crowd to burst into laughter at their actions. She saw a young man perform a series of backflips and somersaults over the crowd and then suddenly appear on top of a tent pole. The people near her erupted into applause and cheers in response as the young man took a bow, Sophia among them.

An older woman juggled a total of twelve balls, each a different color, all the while moving in a circle and a boy of seven executed a perfect handstand and began to walk forward on his hands! It was incredible to see such talented people performing such entertainment! It only solidified why she loved watching the performances that came once every year with the event.

Then, something caught Sophia's eye: A hunched figure stood close to the main stage about ten feet in front of her and appeared to be wearing a dark cape with the hood pulled up to conceal their face. She stepped forward in the effort to get a closer look, but a rather large man sidestepped her and blocked her view of the figure.

_'Quasi?'_

There was no mistaking it, no matter what he wore or how he tried to hide himself, she knew. It had to be him!Just as she was about to step around the man blocking her way, Selena grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off to the left saying, "This way Soph! I think some gypsies are selling jewelry and clothing. I just love their earrings!"

"Whoa!" Sophia exclaimed as her friend dragged her away in the opposite direction and struggling with her friend's grip on her wrist. "Selena! Hold on will you!"

As the two girls made their way towards a cart of gypsy memorabilia, the small redhead was able to catch one last glimpse of the hunched figure before they disappeared behind the swell of the crowd.

_'So you came after all.'_

"Do try to keep up Sophia." The brunette scolded lightly, too excited to pay her friend any attention to her protests. "I want to buy something before all the good stuff is gone."

Sophia sighed, there was no use trying to reel Selena in. When she was this determined to buy something it was in one's best interest to just go along with it. It didn't matter if Selena had matured, a part of the woman would still be slightly vain. As they came up to the cart, she noticed several sets of earrings, bangles, and rings of different styles and metals and the various styles of sashes, skirts, blouses, and cloaks in an array of colors and materials. There was even a small collection of daggers and knives to choose from!

_ 'Oh boy,' _She thought. _"She'll never want to leave now!"_

"Oooh!" Selena cooed excitedly, clapping her hands together and bouncing in place. "There's so much to choose from! Sophia what do you think?"

The elated brunette plucked a red and gold, sheer scarf from one of the many pegs that were driven into the poles of the cart and then a picked a set of simple, gold hoops from the layout. "The scarf or the earrings?"

Sophia blinked. She always hated being put on the spot when asked such things because she was afraid of her friend being unhappy with what she found attractive. In her opinion, she liked the earrings best because one, she herself could never wear them (_her mother found out through experimentation that Sophia's ears were highly sensitive and any metal that was placed within her ears caused severe inflammation and infection. Thus, the reason why she never wore earrings_) and two, the scarf that Selena had chosen did not go well at all with her outfit. But then again, Selena had a few more dresses and skirts than Sophia so there was still a chance that the scarf could work.

"Hmmm." She pretended to think, tapping her chin and furrowing her eyebrows in indecision. "I think the earrings are the safest bet here, my friend."

Selena frowned and looked down at the objects in her hands. "You think so?" She asked tentatively, unsure of which object she liked best.

"Oh yes," The tiny redhead replied with the utmost confidence. "You see, the earrings are a lot less likely to be stolen if they are in your ears."

"Stolen?" Gasped the brunette in horror. "Whatever do you mean by such a thing Sophia?"

"Well," Sophia began in a drawled out manor and placing a fist under chin in thought. "With such a fine scarf as that, I'm sure many of the higher bred girls around would become most envious of it. And you know how selfish and demanding they can be."

The brunette nodded slowly in agreement, still not sure what that had to do with the scarf.

"So," The girl continued, still remaining deadly serious. "They'll find and use any means necessary to obtain it. Never mind asking you to give it to them, they know you wouldn't. Why, I'm sure they would snatch it right off your head and then use their fussy breeding as a shield from preventing you from getting it back. No, I think the earrings are the best bet; they can't snatch those so easily."

Selena gasped in both realization and horror, "You're right! And it's just something those high borns would do!"

With the swoosh of her skirt the young brunette hung the red and gold scarf back on its peg and strode up to the elderly gypsy in charge of the cart to purchase the hoops still clutched in her hand.

"Woo!" Sophia sighed in relief and taking a deep breath.

While she wasn't lying about the highborns and their selfish ways, she also knew that Selena was very vain and prideful; Sophia simply used that to her advantage. The scarf did not go well with Selena's attire and it was certainly too expensive. Seven gold pieces indeed! It wasn't worth it.

"That was quite deceitful, child."

Startled by the old, gravelly, and quite unexpected voice, Sophia spun around sharply to see who it was, clutching a hand over her heart in surprise. Standing in front of her, was an old woman dressed in a rather tattered and frayed burgundy circle skirt and a black blouse clung loosely to her rather small frame. A dirty brown shawl was wrapped around her thin shoulders and tied neatly over her bosom. Her almost pure, white hair was free to cascade down her shoulders and was neatly combed.

Her face had a great number of wrinkles and crinkles, her hands were thin and boney, and yet, despite her sudden appearance, there was something about her that set the young redhead at ease. As if the woman standing before her (who had a wry smile on her features and had a sense of mischievous about her) was no more than her grandmother. Someone she had known all her life and was no stranger to her. This feeling puzzled Sophia because in truth, she had never seen the woman before!

"W-who?" She began, casting a glance at Selena before returning her attention back to the gypsy woman.

The old woman laughed, or cackled rather, before answering. "Who I am is of no importance child. But, if one such as you cares to know," She paused and then extended a gnarled hand towards her, "I am called Gwendolyn. Gwen for short among my people."

Sophia stared at Gwen's offered hand for a brief moment before encasing it within her own and smiling. "I'm Sophia, or Sophie among my close friends. Please to meet you."

The old woman raised a graying eyebrow at her and laughed again. "Why I'd never had a Parisian say such a thing to me before! 'Please to meet you' indeed!"

As the woman continued laughing, Sophia felt quite hurt by the woman's rude behavior. What on earth could be so funny? She was only being polite and friendly; she hadn't meant to be humorous in the slightest!

"And pray tell what is so funny?" She asked stiffly, straightening her back and trying to make herself as tall as possible.

Gwen, who now took notice of the girl's defensive behavior, ceased cackling and rubbed her sides to ease the pain of laughing to hard. She simply smiled and shook her head at the young redhead.

"You don't know much about us do you child?" She asked with a knowing smile.

Sophia, quite confused at the question, answered with a shrug. "I know you are a gypsy and that you make beautiful clothing and sing and dance in the streets. As for truly knowing your people, no, no I don't."

Gwen suddenly changed her expression from sly and teasing, to one of grave seriousness. "Why girl, we steal your children from under your noses." At this the woman smiled a mean sort of smile and leaned forward to place a hand on Sophia shoulder before continuing in a harsh voice. "We take whatever we damn well please when we wants it. We corrupt your husbands in the dead of night, and we certainly enjoy eating the toes of naughty children!"

The young redhead stared horrified at the woman who laughed cruelty at her expression. She tried to take a step away from Gwen put the old woman's grip was like iron and held her in place. Sophia felt a tinge of panic surface and with all her might ripped her shoulder from the hag.

"What a horrid thing to say!" She glared angrily at woman, her eyes narrowing and pulse rushing. "Do you find such joy in frightening people?!"

She had to roll her hands into fists to prevent herself from slapping the old woman across the face. How cruel of Gwen to say such horrible things about her own people! Why would she say such things? Was she trying to frighten her from buying something? Or did this go deeper than just trinkets?

The old woman frowned at her and crossed her arms. "Is that not what you wish to hear?"

Sophia confusion only deepened with this new answer. "What do you mean 'what I wish to hear'? Of course I don't wish to hear such things! I can't imagine why one would say such things about themselves!" She hesitated for a moment, "Unless," She paused. "They are true?"

Gwen simply stared at her blankly, her eyes too, seemed confused. "What does it matter to a Parisian if they are true or false?"

The young redhead shook her head in confusion, it seemed as though they were going in circles. "Of course it matters! If it is true then your people are truly lost, but if it is false then why would you continue to encourage such lies?!"

The old woman narrowed her eyes and glared, her brown eyes turning almost black with rage. "Because it is what _Parisians_ wish!" She spat harshly, "They are the ones to spin tales of kidnapping and thievery like a spider who spins her web! A web of lies and falsehoods! _Your_ people!"

Sophia stood speechless and bewildered. Never before had she heard the gypsy side of the horror stories of Paris. Never before did a gypsy even consider speaking with her, let alone rant and rage at her like this. Never in her wildest imagination did she truly, really sit down and think, consider what gypsies had to live through in what was considered the most romantic city in the world.

In her eyes, they lived troubled and uneasy lives. Whether this was due to their own making or misfortune happened to fall upon them she never really thought about it. She lived a comfortable life with a roof over her head and food on the table and she had a mother who loved her from the bottom of her heart. Even if that mother was about to marry her off to some stranger Sophia never seen before.

Had she ever known true poverty? Had she ever been an outcast by those who lived around her? Yes the boys would make fun of her plain features or used her impaired height to their advantage, but . . she still had a nice, pleasant social group of girls (_even if they barely came to five_) and she still had people to turn to when things went south. But, what of the gypsies? Who did they have to defend them? Who welcomed them? Who took them under their wing and looked out for them? Cared about them? Who did the gypsies have? Very few, and that was in the best case scenario.

"I . ." Sophia stopped.

What could she say? That she was sorry? It wouldn't be enough, it would come too late to say the words. There was nothing she could say that would undo the damage that had already been done. Instead, she merely bowed her head in shame and gazed at the dirty cobblestone beneath her feet.

"You are a strange one child. Very strange indeed."

This was not the response that Sophia expected. Her snapped up so quickly that she jarred a muscle in her neck and gasped in both pain and surprise. As she rubbed the muscle in the hopes of soothing the pain, Gwen looked at her with a strange expression. Her features were no longer angry and hostile, but rather confused and uncertain.

"You do not protest these accusations?" She asked cautiously, taking a hesitant step towards her. "Do you not disagree with me? You will not claim that I and my people are the evil ones who cause your misfortune every time it strikes you?"

Sophia, who's neck was still spiking in pain, replied through clenched teeth, "It doesn't matter what I say does it? I could deny it all I wanted but that doesn't change the truth." She paused a moment before continuing, "_My_ people as you call them, have always been mistrusting and quick to blame yours. We automatically assume gypsies are the source of our problems."

As she spoke her words, Gwen's expression became one of astonishment and yet, still wary. As if she was afraid to fully believe the young redhead.

"I do not understand," It escape the old woman as a breathy whisper. "You Parisians are proud and act so self-righteous. So why do you not defend them? You _are_ a Parisian are you not?"

The girl nodded, "I am." Then added before Gwen could protest, "But just because I am one doesn't mean I'll always side with them. We are not a perfect people and that is something we need to learn."

The old woman simply stared at Sophia in amazement. Not only did a Parisian flat out admit that her people were wrong but also that she refused to side with cruelty and misplaced blame. This young, upstanding Parisian woman was siding with Gwen. A gypsy. The redhead chose fairness, equality, and justice above her own people, lifestyle, and her social customs. By doing so, this placed her in great danger with the cruel judge, Claude Frollo, who was in the middle of trying to purge the city of Paris from the gypsy people.

Gwen's mixed emotions of wariness, anger, and surprise left her immediately when she fully realized what the child had done. She stepped close to the girl, looked from side to side to see if anyone was listening in (_to which no one was, but the girl's friend was near finished with her purchase_). Then whispered carefully, "You will do well to keep that to yourself Deary. Not many of your people will be pleased to hear it. Especially Frollo, he'll burn you alive for treason."

Sophia felt her face harden at the mention of the man. Her insides twisted, her face grew hot, and her hands balled up into fists once more.

"I do not fear that _man_!" She spat angrily through gritted teeth. "He is a coward and a savage!"

Gwen chuckled at the girl's obvious hatred. "You are not alone in that opinion child, but tread carefully; he is not one to be trifled with."

She reached up a wrinkled hand, patted Sophia's cheek, and offered her a sad yet firm smile. "I believe you are one of the few Parisians that a gypsy can trust. Tread carefully Sophia and stay well out of Frollo's path. You are of no use to anyone if he snares you."

The young redhead nodded and placed a hand over Gwen's. "I will, and thank you Gwen."

The old woman cackled at that, "I think it is I who should be thanking you! But I accept your thanks all the same."

The two women stared at each other for a moment. Two women each of a different world, a different life, and yet they hang in an orbit so close that one could reach out and touch the other. The question was: who dared? Who dared to cross the line into uncharted waters and rip open the wall that hung between them? Who dared raise the Iron Curtain that had fallen upon Paris?

"You are most welcome . . My friend."

Sophia Chevalier dared to dream.

**Well my friends, that's a wrap on this chapter. Howed you like it? I wanted to give Sophia a reason to aid the gypsies without having to go through Esme. This makes it more personal I think. Next chapter, we see more of Quasi and of course, La Esmerelda!**

**Thank you so much fans, readers, and reviewers! You all have been a blessing to me and I can only hope that I'm bringing the best home for you all. Many thanks to my following reviewers . . .**

**Daniella**

**and**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Thank you for your kind words and questions! I can only hope that I do this story right. Especially for those who love it a passionally as you do.**

**Oh! And please leave a review in the box below! It really helps!**


	6. La Esmerelda

**Hallo again! Welcome to the next chapter of the tale of mine. This time around, we'll get to see what Quasi's up to. How's that sound? Oh, and we get to meet the wonderful and very lovely La Esmeralda too! Thank you to all my followers and reviewers for your enthusiasium and your support! It really does wonders.**

**Special thanks to . . .**

**Ariella**

**Daniella**

**and of course . . . ****The Imginative Light!**

**Thanks for all your help and support!**

**Inspiration for this chapter: Luxtos by Eluveitie! Beautiful flute and drums!**

**Chapter Six **

**La Esmeralda**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that it would be like this. Being so up close to the performers, the music, the people, the _smells_ . . it was . . indescribable! He wondered around from stall to stall admiring all the carvings and workmanship being sold. There was everything anyone could possibly imagine! Pots, pans, tableware, silverware, scarfs, jewelry, glass figures, wooden figures, charms, trinkets, baubles, and in great abundance . . _food_!

Tables were set up everywhere anyone could place them. Men, women, children, and even babes who lay in their mother's arms sat upon the many benches lining them, all laughing and smiling. All with happiness and joy upon their faces. Quasi never felt so . . . _alive_! Sophia's world was just incredible! And speaking of the young redhead . . where was she?

While he explored and observed the festival up close and personal, he was all the while searching for his friend but he found no sign of her. This troubled him because even though he was enjoying himself greatly, he wanted her with him. He felt, more at ease, more comfortable when she was by his side; less timid and shy. Safe. Right now, that sounded pretty good to him. This world of hers was beautiful and wonderful, but without her by his side guiding him, leading him, he felt like a ship lost at sea.

He needed to find Sophia.

As he was passing a colorful orange tent, Quasi was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice a quite drunken man trip and stumble into the unsuspecting hunchback.

"Wa-watch i-it!" The man slurred harshly, his speech impaired due to the heavy drinking he had been doing. He reached out and gripped the young bell ringer's shoulder for support before pushing him gruffly away from him. "Out-tta my wa-ay!"

Quasi cried out in surprise as he lost his balance and fell backwards into the fabric wall of the orange tent. He reached out and grasped the thin fabric in the hope of stabilizing himself, but it gave way under his weight and collapsed, sending him sprawling to the cobblestone beneath his feet. One of the poles that helped hold the tent upright, too, fell and landed across his back. It wasn't a serious hit, but it was just enough for it to smart. Then, the orange fabric floated slowly down on top of him, shielding him from sight.

"Oh!" Exclaimed a voice off to his left.

He felt his heart suddenly sink in fear and embarrassment; it was a woman's voice; a younger one at that. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and wished that he had indeed, stayed in the bell tower. If only so he could have avoided such a predicament. He struggled to untangle himself from the now offensive orange mass, but somehow only succeeded in winding the curtain tighter around himself.

"Are you alright?" It was the woman again, her voice was filled with worry and concern; something he was still not familiar with.

At least, not with someone who sounded nothing like Sophia. This woman's voice was so different. Whether Sophia's tone was carefree, matter-of-fact, and always gentle, this woman's was something else entirely. This woman's voice sounded gentle too, but it was a different kind of gentle; as if she she was approaching something with caution (_which made sense to him, after all, he had just crashed into her tent_). There was also experience and absolute confidence within that tone. For someone as young as she was, she had enough experience not to trust just anyone. Something completely different from Sophia, who always tried to make friends with everyone. Except his master of course, there was no changing that view.

And yet, despite all that caution and experience, there was something else. Something he couldn't identify. Something in that voice that made him feel suddenly lightheaded and made his heart skip several beats. What was this feeling? This new feeling that he never felt before?

He then felt a pair of slim hands take hold of one of the corners of the fabric encasing him and pulled. In a sort of slow motion sense, the orange cloth fell away and he was suddenly face to face with a brilliant pair of emerald orbs. His own light, sky blue met bright, shining emerald. A color he had never seen in a person before. Granted, he only knew of three colors: Frollo's hard steel; the archdeacon's soft, kind hazel; and of course, Sophia's gentle, energetic blue.

"Are you alright?" The woman's voice broke through his wanderings and he was, once again, thrust into reality.

A flash of fear enveloped him and instinctively, Quasi griped the edge of his hood in order to hide his face from her. The woman in contrast to his own features, was beautiful. She was tall, about five foot six or seven and her hair was a brilliant ebony that fell in loose waves about her shoulders. Her skin was a rich, medium tan and seemed to give off this earthy glow that reminded him of the deep bronze of his bells. His friends, whose beautiful voice filled his life with joy and music. In a strange way, this woman before him reminded him of his giant, bronze friends. In her own way, she too was like Big Marie and the others. A beautiful bronze bell in her own right.

At seeing how Quasi tried to hide himself from her, the woman knelt down, reached out a hand, and grasped the edge of his hood. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Let's take a look, okay?"

Before he had the chance to stop her, the woman threw back the hood that shielded him and exposing him fully to her sight.

"NO!" He immediately tried to shield his face from her view, both out of fear and because he didn't wish for someone as beautiful as her to look upon someone as hideous as himself.

But she persisted, wrapping her slender hands around his own and trying to lower them so she could see him clearly. The first thing about her grip was that it was loose, not ironclad; gently applying enough pressure to try and lower his much larger and powerful hands. Oh, yes. He had great strength. The strength of about ten men and yet, he'd never raised a hand to anyone. Not even his master. He couldn't live with himself if he'd ever, ever hurt anyone because of who he was.

After a moment or two of trying to resist, Quasi allowed her to have her way. If only because he feared he would harm her if he continued to try to escape being seen. He'd rather her see him and not be physically harmed than escape from her sight without her seeing and injuring her in the process. He'd take her screams of fear and horror over causing her pain. That he was willing to bear, but not harming her. Not a creature with such beauty as her.

Now he stood (_well, not quite; he still was laying partially on his side_), his defenses lowered and his head lowered. He didn't have the courage to look her in the eyes. He was still afraid. Afraid of her reaction, afraid of her judgment, and afraid of what she would find in a face like his. What would she see?

"There now." When she spoke, it was soft and gentle. There was no trace of malice or disgust within her tone. "Much better."

At her calm and gentle voice, he took a chance and looked up. His face met her's; this time, on equal ground. No tent walls, no hood, no hands to safeguard him; as if he was baring his soul for the first time. What he found in those brilliant emerald eyes was something he'd never seen in a person who had just met him. Not even Sophia had this expression in her eyes the first time he met her. Warmth. There was no fear, no disgust, no hate, only . . . warmth.

The woman offered him a smile, a true, genuine smile and ran a tanned hand over his pale cheek. "You don't look hurt, but try to be more careful please."

She suddenly stood and tightened the belt of cloth she wore upon her waist. It was then he noticed what exactly she was wearing; a teal robe of silk-like fabric. He felt his face warm considerably. She must have been getting ready for a performance when he came tumbling in. He nimbly rose to his feet and straightened his cloak about his shoulders.

"O-oh, I-I will!" He fumbled, ringing his hands nervously and trying regain his senses.

The young woman, who looked no older than him, smiled gently at him, her eye sparkling with kindness and warmth. She leaned over and picked up the fallen pole that help stabilize the tent and set it back into its rightful place. Quasi picked up the orange canvas that was used as one of the tent walls and helped the woman replace it. A goofy grin had found its way across his face and a sudden far away look appeared in his pale blue eyes.

"By the way," She winked at him, as she held the corner of the flap between two fingers. "Great mask."

And she was gone.

And she was gone. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. As if someone had woken him from a beautiful and peaceful dream. As if all the happiness that had been settled between them had simply vanished. Of course. Of course she would believe his features to be the work of paper or cloth. A mask. It made sense though, why she didn't run in fear or scream. She didn't believe that the face she looked upon was real; was of true flesh and blood. She hadn't seen him at all. She only saw what she wanted to see. A mask, a falsehood, fake. Even when truth and reality stared back at her with innocent and fearful eyes, she hadn't seen him.

He was not real.

Would he ever be? To anyone? Or was he to wander in a world that refused it see what lay behind the mask? Doomed to live a life full of bronze bells and stone gargoyles, but not with a living, breathing person. Never to feel the warm embrace of another. He was beginning to feel that Notre Dame was the only place that would ever welcome him into her strong, loving embrace. The only 'Lady' that could ever come to truly love him.

_Kyrie Eleison_

**Okay, now I know I'm going to get a shoe to the face for such a short chapter over the span of three weeks of no posting.**

***someone in the back of the crowd takes off shoe***

**But I have a perfect explanation.**

***same person lifts shoes and takes aim***

**My grandmother had recently broke her leg and can't walk and work this weeks been to hell from back and I haven't been felling my best and I just want to say I'm really really really sorrry-**

***person in the back thre shoe to soon***

***hits me dead center in the face***

***I trip over myself***

***faceplants on the ground***

**I'm okay!**

***lifts arm in triumph***

***same guy throws the other shoe***

***his me in the back of the head***

**I'm still okay!**

***falls in unconciousness***

**No seriously people, this past week has been from hell. I'm so tired that all I want to do is sleep for a week. But that probably won't happen. But please keep my gran in your prayers readers. She really did break her leg and trust me, right now, she hates being crippled. I'm doing the best I can for her so if my chapters (which they already are) are not coming fast enough. . . that's why.**

**No offence, but family for me comes first before my stories. I know that's not what you want to hear but sorry. That's the way life goes. I'm the one who lives with my gran so I'm the one who helps and watches out for her. And that's what I'm gnna do!**

**So there peeps!**

**Sorry if I seemed a bit rude. Okay, a lot rude. Sleep hasn't been coming to me as well as it should so I'm gonna end it right here and now and . . . . . zzzzzzz**


	7. King of Fools

**Long time no see everyone! First off, I wish to apologize for no uploading for the past few weeks. This was due to me caring for my grandmother who recently broke her leg, work, Thanksgiving, shopping for Christmas, and writing for another story. I'm sorry for the lack of uploads but in my defense, things have gotten pretty hectic around here.**

**I would like to thank all my reviewers for commenting on this story and giving me such wonderful and encouraging reviews.**

**CityCat**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Ariella and her twin sister Daniella**

**Thank you bunches upon bunches everyone! Your all wonderful writers and readers in your own rights!**

**Chapter Seven**

**King of Fools**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Sophia sighed. It took her all of ten minutes to pull Selena away from the cart; repeatedly telling her friend that she already purchased something and to save what was left of her earnings. That was easier said than done where the young brunette was concerned, but nonetheless, Sophia eventually succeeded. Now both girls were wandering around the festivities looking in on what interested them, food, dancing, watching performers, and so on. However, it wasn't until the small redhead turned towards the main stage did something caught her interest.

The man whom Selena had proclaimed to be the gypsies' king had swung himself up above the stage and began to sing to the growing crowd, drawling their attention to the stage below him. Intrigued by his song, which somehow seemed to beckon her towards him, Sophia rushed forward in order to get as close to the stage's edge as possible.

"Sophia! Wait!" Selena called after her, but the young redhead paid her no head. Instead, she lost her friend in the crowd as the townspeople converged on the stage.

"Come one, come all!

Hurry, hurry here's your chance,

See the mystery and romance!

Come one, come all!

See the finest girl in France,

Make an entrance to entrance!"

At the highlight of his song, the Gypsy King raised a fist high above him before bringing it down and releasing a dark powder of some sort down upon the stage below him.

"Dance La Esmeralda . . . . .

DANCE!"

The powder exploded once it made contact with the wooden floor of the stage, sending it up in a plume of dark smoke. Sophia had to turn her head away so as not to get a faceful of the stuff, raising a small hand in an extra effort to shield herself. Once she was sure the stuff had dissipated, she cracked an eye only to be surprised of what the powder had revealed: a dark tanned woman with wavy ebony hair and dressed in a gold, orange, and deep red dress. Clutched in her right hand was a tambourine and by her side was a white goat who proceeded to trot around the stage as if he owned it.

Sophia gasped in disbelief. It was the gypsy woman from early this morning! The one who she stopped to watch before she went to meet Quasi! She watched spellbound as the woman, this La Esmeralda, began to dance about the stage; her loyal companion following her moments and executing a few unique ones of his own. Esmeralda's dexterity was certainly something to marvel at, she bended and stretched in ways the petite girl knew she herself could not.

Unfortunately, Sophia was not the only person who was intrigued by the young woman's dancing. Several men had come up on her left and shoved her to the cobblestone below her feet. She cried out in both surprise and hurt as one of them had jabbed his elbow into her side. She struggled to stand but the condensed crowd made it difficult for her to get vertical again. From her new position however, she caught a glance of a figure clad in a dark cloak with the hood pulled tight around their face near the front of the stage about ten feet away. Immediately, Sophia's gaze went to the figure's back and there was the tell-tale sign of the hump that she was so familiar with.

_'Quasi!'_

A new found determination filled her as she struggled to her feet again. Instead of her usual politeness, Sophia pushed her way through the crowd as hard and fast as she could, striving to reach her friend. After several 'hey's', 'watch where your going's', and a few other choice of words, the young redhead made it to Quasi's side. Unfortunately, she tripped over a loose cobblestone and fell into the unsuspecting hunchback.

"Ah!"

"Oomph!"

Just as she was about to eat the cobblestone, Sophia felt two large, powerful hands grasp her about the upper arms and gently, but firmly, pulled her upright. She felt a serge of warmth from those hands enter through her arms and spread to the rest of her, warming her from the inside out. How he was able to do that was always a mystery to her. Without knowing he was doing it, he made her feel safe and loved; handling her has if she would shatter if too much pressure was applied.

"Sophia?" Again, his voice reminded her of the bells he cared for day to day; the gentle tinkling of iron and bronze that echoed comfort and stability.

"Oh, hello Quasi." Sophia breathed, struggling to find her breath seeing as her trek through the crowd was difficult. The fact that he was staring at her with such concern in his sky blue orbs had absolutely nothing to do with it. "I see you made it after all."

He offered her a gentle smile, "Yes, I think I understand what you were trying to tell me. I need to make my own decisions in life; I can't hide forever."

The young redhead felt her cheeks warm at his words. He was finally beginning to see himself as a person, an individual who had the right to make choices for himself, a human being. Before she could congratulate him on his independence however, the roar of the crowd brought her back to where she was at the present moment. She and Quasi turned their attention back to the woman on stage just in time to see her abandon her tambourine and in its place was a purple sheer scarf which was decorated with golden suns and moons.

What the woman did next, astounded even Sophia. La Esmeralda ran fluidly over the stage, heading straight for Judge Frollo (_Sophia was surprised she hadn't noticed him sooner and repositioned herself where she was sure the judge couldn't see her hunchbacked friend_) who was seated under a small, black pavilion. She when the young woman was about ten feet from the cruel man, she executed a high kick before launching herself at him. Esmeralda then wrapped the scarf around Frollo's neck and pulled his face towards her. Then, with a sly wink, slammed her hand over his pompous hat causing it to slip over his eyes and rending him temporarily blind. He reached out a clawed hand to catch her but the young woman was to quick, leaping away from the judge and leaving her scarf still wrapped around his neck.

The scene was to much for Sophia to pass up and she laughed wholeheartedly at Frollo's flustered and irritated expression. Severed him right, someone had to make a fool out of him. Secretly though, she admired the ebony beauty for having such courage to do it. No matter how much she hated Frollo, she doubt she could have the courage to do or say anything that would publicly humiliate him. Maybe she was just a coward.

She glanced at Quasi to judge his reaction to Esmeralda's daring but what she found there was not what she excepted. She imagined anxiety or discomfort from seeing his master humiliated in such a fashion or perhaps a twinge of fear in case Frollo might have recognized who he was. But none of these were the expression that had settled on his face at all. Instead, it was . . . awe? There was a faraway look in his eyes that she had never seen before and his eyes followed Esmeralda's movements without so much as blinking.

He looked, for the lack of a better word, starstruck.

"Quasi?" Sophia reached out a hand and placed it carefully on his shoulder, shaking it in order to rouse him from his lack of responsive state. "Quasi!"

"Oh!" The young hunchback jerked as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over him. He turned back to his friend whose hand was still clutching his shoulder, rather tightly too. "Sophia? What is wrong? Are you not enjoying the performance?"

It suddenly dawned on her that Quasi wasn't aware that he was staring so intently at the young gypsy just seconds before she got his attention.

"No I'm really enjoying it." The young woman insisted, shaking her head before turning back to Esmeralda. "She amazing isn't she?"

"Yes." Quasi answered, following his friend's gaze; his voice softer than usual. "Amazing."

Sophia wasn't sure how to respond to his sudden admiration of the young woman. She knew it was terribly selfish of her to be jealous over something as trivial as this. After all, Quasi had never left the bell tower before; of course his first encounter with such festivities would delight and wonder him. He would be in awe of how he was experiencing living for the first time in his life. The young redhead focused on this fact in order to smother the hot and squirming feeling in her gut and returned her attention back to the stage.

La Esmeralda finished off her dance in a unique fashion. She leaped across the stage and plucked a spear from one of Frollo's guards that happened to be standing near the edge. She then took a great running start before plunging the weapon deep within the floor of the stage and swung herself upwards, allowing her body to wrap around the shaft and sliding downwards. Ending with her holding on with one hand and giving the crowd a quick nod and wide smile. The people erupted into applause, whops of cheering, several wolf whistles, and shouts of things that Sophia could have gone the whole day without hearing.

She scowled in disgust at some of the men's vulgar and inappropriate phrases. It seemed that's all Parisian men cared about these days . . intimacy. Why couldn't a woman in this day in age be appreciated for things other than her physical appearance? Or was this the fate of all women? Only to be cared for by the likes of men who saw nothing more than a pretty face or slim figure. It made Sophia sick to her stomach because she realized that no Parisian man was ever going to want her hand in matrimony. She was too small, to stocky, her fingers were slightly bent, and her waist was not slim.

She preferred to keep her wild, curly hair short instead of long. The only way for her to marry was to impress them with her smile, her eyes, and her sweet and kind nature. Her cooking wasn't a bad factor either. Still, she wished that women could become more independent; could hold their own without the aid of a man in their lives. She hated the idea of having to marry just so she wouldn't be homeless or even more poor than she already was.

However, Sophia's thoughts were interrupted by the Gypsy King (_Clopin Trouillefou was it?_) who suddenly jumped down from the top of the tent to the stage below. He landed with the ease and grace of an experienced acrobat, landing with knees bent and then executing a frontflip to land expertly in a standing position. He assisted Esmeralda in disentangling herself from the spear, making sure her dress was not ripped in the process. Then, once the woman was free, grasped the weapon in one hand and pulled it out of the wood with such ease it was as if he was simply removing a splinter.

She had never expected such strength from a man who looked so thin and wiry. It just goes to show that one couldn't judge a person just by their appearance. Clopin tossed the spear back to its owner who wasn't quite ready to receive it and the guard fumbled in the effort to catch it while trying not to impale himself with its tip. Was it just her or did Clopin just smirk at the man? This Gypsy King seemed a bit overconfident in her opinion.

But it seemed that he was just eager to get to the highlight of the festival: crowning their King of Fools. He spread his arms wide and began to sing.

"Here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for.

Here it is, you know exactly what's in store.

Now's the time we laugh until our sides get sore.

Now's the time we crown the King of Fool's!"

As the gold and purple clad man sang, he danced about the stage pulling random people up onto the platform with him. Soon to be candidates for the title of King she supposed. Although, it was not only the Gypsy King picking out participants; La Esmeralda decided to join in as well. She pulled up a rather scrawny middle aged man with yellow, cracked teeth and another man who's hair was dirty and unkempt. Then she surveyed the crowd looking for one more person before the young gypsy's emerald green orbs fell on someone Sophia guessed looked familiar to her.

Esmeralda leaped forward and stretched out a slim hand towards Quasi. "How about you my friend? Want to try your hand at king?"

Sophia felt her blood run cold; the ebony haired beauty seemed to _know_ him. But how? The young woman could only guess that they ran into each other before she caught up with her hunchbacked friend. In any case, she couldn't let Quasi on stage; Frollo was just across the way. If he saw Quasi . . .

"Don't." She reached up and grasped his shoulder tightly, trying to convey him to decline the woman's offer.

His eyes met hers and, for an instant, she could see the confusion within those sky blue eyes of his. As if he was uncertain who exactly to follow.

"There's nothing to fear." The ebony haired woman said gently, then, before Sophia could object further, grasped Quasi's hand and pulled him up onto the stage.

"No!" The cry left her lips all too late as she lurched forward to try to take hold of her friend's tunic. Her reflexes were too slow as Esmeralda had already whisked him away towards a forming line of contestants. "Quasi!"

Panic ensued within her. She had to get him off that stage, though she knew it was already too late for that. She did a quick glance to her left towards the black pavilion that shaded the monster beneath it's black curtains. Frollo's expression was somewhere between livid and infuriated or perhaps it was both. Sophia felt her stomach turn to ice; Frollo had seen him, was seeing him. After all, the cruel judge was seated right in front of the stage! How could he miss?!

She couldn't bare to look at the man any longer and tore her eyes away only to place them on the one person she wanted nothing more than to pull of that wretched stage. Quasi looked somewhere between terrified and excited; his eyes nervous and darting back and forth looking at the crowd before him with wide eyes. Without thinking of what she was doing, Sophia took a deep breath and launched herself at the edge of the stage. Her hands gripped the ledge and just as she was about to pull herself up onto the platform, someone from behind grabbed her around the waist.

"Get off the stage girl!" A gruff voice rumbled irritably behind her ear. " You weren't chosen as a contestant."

"Ah! Let go of me!" She shrieked, struggling in the man's grasp for the grip on her waist was too strong to be that of a woman's.

She thrashed against him, kicking him in the thigh and clawing at his bare arms and hands but he would not let her go. He held her back, pinning her body against his own in the effort to keep the young woman from reaching the stage again. In her struggle with the man, Sophia had missed the unmasking of the contestants. It was only when she heard the crowd gasp in horror did she stop her thrashing and clawing, the man's hands were starting to bleed from the scratches she left on his arms.

She looked up just in time to see Esmeralda step back in shock from Quasi, a look of horror had replaced her kind smile moments before. Suddenly the crowd took several steps back from the stage, flinching in disgust and horror; all staring at her friend with such horrible eyes.

"That's no mask!"

"It's his _face_!"

"It's the bell ringer of Notre Dame!"

The man holding her suddenly dropped her, more than likely out of shock at the scene playing out on stage. Sophia hit the ground hard, her face slamming into the cobblestone, nonetheless she scrambled away from the man so as not to be captured again by his hands. She kept her eyes on her friend who now had buried his face in his hands, a whimper of fear passing from his lips; not that those around him heard it. Not that they cared whether or not he was frightened, how he was ready to bolt from the stage, how his knees had start to shake, or that his breathing had become so heavy that his whole frame seemed ready to collapse.

Just as she reached the edge of the stage again and was prepare to drag her friend away from the hateful eyes of the crowd, the Gypsy King started speaking once more.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Clopin suddenly stepped in front of Quasi, shielding him from the crowd's view. "Do not panic! We asked for the ugliest face in Paris and here it is! Quasimodo the hunchback of Notre Dame!"

At his words, the crowd seemed to lighten in spirit and suddenly to applause and cheers. In Sophia's opinion they seemed very bi-polar, first fearing him and now calling for him to be their king. It disgusted her! The crowd surged towards the stage again, sweeping her away from the platform's edge. They cheered and applauded, streamers were being thrown and colored paper littered the sky above her. She couldn't see, everyone was too tall for her to glimpse over and it didn't help that everyone decided to pack themselves in so tightly.

The only chance she had was to climb something or to back out of the crowd and resign herself at the back. She looked down at herself and decided that climbing a pole was probably not in her best interest, too many men would be tempted to look up her dress. Sophia scowled, she would have to go to the back of the crowd and . . . maybe not. She took a quick look around and caught sight of the platform that was used for executions and public humiliation. Today it's use would be to bring the new King of Fool's up to view his 'subjects' for the day. If she could get there before the crowd made their way to the platform, then she could get to Quasi easier.

Sophia didn't have the time or the option to think her plan over, instead, she ran with it. Pushing through the crowd of people all over again, she battled her way to the platform in the silent hope that she would get a good front row view of her friend. She didn't want to loose anymore eye contact with him just in case he needed her. To think, their secret friendship might be exposed because of all this. This would spell more trouble for Quasi than it would for her. She could deal with her peers looking down on her for befriending the 'monster'. She would take it all the hateful looks and whispers if it meant that he would not be harmed.

No, it was Quasimodo who would suffer and at Frollo's hand when this was said and done. Tears pricked at her eyes at the thought of Frollo laying a hand on him again. And it was all her fault! Why?! Why hadn't she seen this coming? She _knew_ Frollo would be at the festival and still she insisted! Still she had begged Quasi to go with her! To see her world! And now . . now . .

Sophia finally broke through the crowd just as Quasi's lift was being carried to the platform, a felt crown upon his brow and a great smile plastered across his face. She stood there, gazing up at her friend, who, for once in his life, seemed accepted by the people around him. The young redhead felt her heart swell at how happy and joyous he looked. He leaped off the lift and landed nimbly on the platform standing as tall as his crooked back would allow, his face alive with emotion. Two men adorned a cape around his shoulders, fastening it front and another handed him a small scepter. The crowd began to throw flowers or all kinds up at him, chanting his name like it was some kind of prayer.

A lone tear fell from his one good eye and cascaded down his cheek. Tears of joy. Pure, innocent joy.

"Oh Quasi." Thick emotion filled her voice as she tried to contain her own happiness, happiness for him.

"You think he's ugly now? Watch this!"

Sophia whipped her head to the left just in time to see a rather porky guard, one of Frollo's no less, toss a ripened tomato at Quasi's face.

**Long chapter this time! I thought I try and make it up to all of you who have been patently waiting for my next update. This time I promise not to make you all wait so long. I know this is a bad time to stop but this leaves me so much more room for next chapter. I hope you don't hate met too much for this cliffy.**

**Please review and leave me a nice long one too please! I would love you all forever and everfor! See you all next time!**


	8. Humiliation

**I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so very sorry! My excuses this time? I was sick for threee days with an on and off fever, had a horrid case of writers block, getting everything ready for Christmas, looking after Gran, and on top of it all, my great aunt passed away this past Saturday and I've been out of town for the funeral. ****That's about it. However, your thoughts and prayers for my family would be greatly appreciated. Without further ado, on with the story!**

**I would like to thank all my reviewers for commenting on this story and giving me such wonderful and encouraging reviews.**

**CityCat**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Ariella and her twin sister Daniella**

**Thank you bunches upon bunches everyone! Your all wonderful writers and readers in your own rights!**

**Chapter Eight**

**Humiliation**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Silence. The calm before the storm. Like when something so unexpected happens and you can't resister that it actually did; your mind can't make the connection. For two seconds, no one moved. No one dared to even breathe; everything had gone still. Deathly still. Even the gentle, warm breeze had ceased. As if, for a moment, all life had come to a sudden and abrupt halt. And then, the world exploded into life again.

Sophia wasn't sure where it started, she was too consumed with Quasi's shocked and horrified expression; too surprised and caught off guard to really be paying attention. But somewhere, so far off she barely heard it, someone laughed. If she had truly listened to it, she would have found that it was a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. Like when her mother would talk about when she was younger with other people and she would laugh nervously in the hope of directing attention elsewhere. In truth, the person only wanted the attention taken off Quasi, away from his plight. Unfortunately, that small, nervous laugh only succeeded in drawing attention _to_ him.

And the crowd around her, erupted into mayhem. A guard from across the square shouted something that Sophia couldn't make out, but there was no real need to know. A vegetable flew from his hand and sailed through the air only to collide with her now frightened friend's face. From her position, she hear it. That sickening _slap! _Of the vegetable's innards exploding on impact. She heard his cry of shock and hurt. She saw him duck his head from the crowd, as if hoping to hid himself away behind that lock of course, red hair that always fell to that one side of his face. She saw and heard his fright and yet, she was frozen.

She was completely and utterly frozen.

Deep in her mind a voice urged her to move, no, _demanded_ that she move. But it was as if someone had replaced all the blood in her body with lead. She felt such a terrible weight in her that prevented any sort of movement at all. Her mind was pleading with her now, demanding, begging her to do _something_. Anything, _anything_ at all to help. Why couldn't she _move_?!

The crowd was picking up on the idea and suddenly, fruit and vegetables pelted her friend in a whorl of greens and reds. Taunts filled with venom and malice were tossed at him, mixing in with the pulp that now covered his face and matted his hair. Harsh, bellowing laughter ensued when he raised a hand to shield himself from the ripe projectiles that spattered against his body and the stage that once was his salvation, had turned against him and had become his cage. In his effort to escape the laughter, the cruel faces, the insults, and the fruit that was being used as a means of torture, Quasi slipped on the pulp of an over-ripened squash and fell hard on his crocked and deformed spine. A cry of pain so great escaped his lips that Sophia was sure the crowd had heard it, but they did not relent in their sport.

It was that cry, that single sound that echoed such pain and suffering that finally removed whatever spell the young redhead had fallen under. And suddenly, without knowing fully what she was doing, bolted for the platform's wooden steps. But now, the people were no longer in an organized fashion. They were everywhere, running to get closer so the platform, to get a better shot. Children were lifted onto their fathers shoulders, fruit clutched tightly in their little fists. Sophia stumbled and tripped through the crowd, pushing people out of her way the best she could. Suddenly a man beside her deemed that it just wasn't enough to merely throw vegetables at the poor soul. Within the depths of his jerkin, the man pulled out a length of rope.

A sharp, icy wave of fear hit Sophia in the chest and she quickly diverted her attention to Quasi who had now risen from the wheel he had tumbled on and was in the motions of bolting off the stage. She opened her mouth to scream a warning, but was too late. The lasso sailed through the air, almost to her in slow motion, before looping around it's target. Quasimodo's neck. With a flick of the man's wrist, the rope went taunt and the soul on stage fell backwards onto the wheel; a large hand struggling to loosen the constraint that threatened to choke him.

"QUASI!" It left her as a strangled, desperate cry of horror and helplessness.

Sophia's heart nearly stopped beating, as if ice had frozen it in mid-beat though this time, did not let it hinder her to the point that she became a statue. She once again bolted for the stage, trying desperately to reach Quasi. She had never been so afraid as she was now, in this moment. The terror that ran through was nothing she had ever experienced in her whole life. The crowd seemed to delight in Quasi's struggle to escape and another rope latched itself around his left hand, preventing him from further struggle. Or so they thought.

The men at the other ends of the ropes pulled hard, making it almost impossible for Quasi ever having a hope of standing up again. That is, if he was a normal man; something he most definably was not. As she pushed through another set of people Sophia saw him close his eyes and contract the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back. Then suddenly, as if a spring had come unwound, he pulled hard against the rope that captured his hand. At his sheer strength, the man on the other end fell forward, loosing his hold on the rope. Seeing now that this was not enough to restrain him, the crowd began to throw more ropes upon his body.

Quasi wasn't giving up, struggling all the more and breaking as many lines as he could. But when he would break one, two more were thrown upon him and soon he had not the strength nor the mobility to fight. In the effort to free himself, he had ripped open the back of his tunic, exposing the offending hump that lay upon the right side of his spine. As Sophia pushed past, a woman fainted at the sight and several others looked away from him in horror and disgust. Hot tears pricked her eyes, threatening to cloud her vision and run down her cheeks. As she struggled against the tide of the crowd, she roughly wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She wouldn't cry, not now. Not when Quasi needed her the most. Not when he was depending on her for her strength.

Through her unshed tears, she was able to see that he was now tied down to the wheel beneath him. Forced to his knees and hands tied behind him like some common criminal. Pulp ran down his face and dripped into his eyes. He was scared, so very frightened of those that faced him now with such hate in their eyes. Then two men who now stood beside the kneeling hunchback, leaned over and spun the wheel. Quasi cried out again in fear, spinning rapidly upon that horrible wheel and begging . . . begging for the one person with the power to save him from the crowd: Frollo.

Suddenly remembering that the presence of the judge, Sophia searched the crowd and once she caught sight of him, instantly knew there would be no end to Quasi's suffering. Frollo had his hands folded, fingers interlocked tightly and a harsh, displeased glare upon his features. His cold, steel gray eyes glimmered with rage and his whole posture spoke displeasure. He would not end this, no. He would use it, this was Quasi's punishment for leaving the bell tower and Frollo was not going to spare him.

A wave of anger washed over the young redhead, an anger so great that she swore everything in her sight turned a bloody crimson. Fueled by rage, Sophia didn't care who or what was in her way, but made sure they would not hinder her in her task. She plowed through the crowd, her emotions raging like a wild boar. Pushing and shoving everyone who had the misfortune of preventing her from reaching Quasi. She would leave Frollo for another time. Just as she reached the edge of the mob, for that was what the crowd had become, a strangled hush fell over the crowd.

It was as if someone had knocked the very breath out of her; she couldn't believe what she was seeing. La Esmeralda, the one who had pulled Quasi up onto the stage in the first place, was mounting the steps of the platform. Her movements were slow, whether this was because she was afraid of the poor hunchback or because she didn't want to frighten him even more, Sophia wasn't sure. But she wasn't just going to stand around and wait to find out.

Now that the crowd was too stunned to act, the young redhead took her chance and ran for the steps, taking two at a time. When she reached the top of the steps she froze once more. The gypsy woman was untying the purple cloth that hung from her waist and very carefully, began to wipe the pulp from Quasi's frightened face. He flinched away from her, unsure of her true intentions.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was gentle and, was that . . guilt and remorse? "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"You're damn right." It slipped past Sophia's lips before she had the time to catch herself.

Both Quasi and Esmeralda turned their heads in unison at the sudden profanity. Quasi, who could barely meet her gaze head on, looked at her with wide eyes. He had never heard her use such language before, but upon seeing the halfway look of anger and fear on her face he said not a word on the subject. The young gypsy on the other hand seemed to have taken offense to her outburst but before she could rebuke the statement, Sophia rushed over and knelt by Quasi's side. Her anger at the gypsy woman immediately dissipated, leaving nothing but genuine concern and fear. All that mattered now was that she was here beside him, that she was here to shield him from whatever else may come. She could hold back her tears no longer, letting them spill forth from their lids and roll freely down her cheeks.

"Oh, Quasi!" A broken, yet whispered sob escaped her and with all the strength left within her, threw her arms around his trapped form.

She sobbed uncontrollably, burying her face into the crook of Quasi's neck, her chin resting on his now exposed collar bone. He said not a word, but she could feel his sky blue eyes on her, could feel his kind and yet still scared gaze upon her. She tried to stem the tears, the sobs, but they just kept coming; she could not stop.

"You there!"

Sophia outwardly cringed at the sharp, demanding baritone; Frollo's steeliness cut through her like knife. For a moment, she had forgotten everything and everyone around her. She had forgotten where she was. Her friends, who were scattered about the crowd, were watching her right now and so was Frollo for that matter.

"Get down at once!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Sophia witnessed Esmeralda's back straighten and a sharp look of defiance ablaze in her emerald green orbs; the young gypsy woman had visibly bristled at the cruel judge's order. It was in this one moment that she felt great respect and admiration for the ebony haired woman, though, a small part of her was still displeased with her for pulling her most treasured friend up onto the stage in the first place. The young gypsy suddenly turned away from them and faced Frollo's canopy.

"Of course Your Honor!" She addressed him with a calm, non-offensive tone, trying to appear as polite and reasonable as possible. "Just after I free this poor soul from this offense!"

Sophia removed her face from Quasi but refused to let go of her embrace, not wanting to separate herself from him entirely. She watched as the scene between Frollo and Esmeralda seemed to intensify; the air it very self seemed to grow thick with tension.

The judge was standing now, his steel gray eyes alive with rage and sending the young woman such a piercing glare. "I forbid you to do so!"

Something she couldn't quite identify flashed in Esmeralda's eyes, something that resembled deep hatred and disgust. With such speed that the young redhead didn't think was possible, the young gypsy crouched down and withdrew a steel knife from a sheath that was wrapped high about her calf. Without so much as a warning to her, the ebony haired woman slipped the knife under the ropes that bound her friend to the wheel and cut them loose. Sophia cried out in surprised, not expecting the knife to come so close and so fast to her but swiftly recovered once she realized that the woman meant her and Quasi no harm.

However, this did nothing but enrage Frollo further.

"How _dare_ you girl?!" He bellowed, his hands clenching into claws by his sides. "How dare you defy _me_?!"

If Esmeralda was intimidated by Frollo's outburst she did not show it. In fact, it seemed her own anger only grew the longer she stared back at him and she was not the only one. Something within Sophia snapped at that moment; she had tolerated Frollo's cruelty and mistreatment far enough. Now, she would not let this new offense against her friend, against the one man in Paris who had shown her true compassion and love, go without consequence.

"You mistreat him in the same manner as you do many others in this city!" Sophia cried out, clenching her own fists and rising to her feet. She deliberately moved to stand in front of Quasi, shielding him from Frollo's angry gaze. "You try to justify your actions as works of God, convince yourself that what you do is His will! But do you truly believe that?! Do you truly think that _this_," She pointed to the now disgraced hunchback behind her. "Is the work and will of our Lord?!"

"Silence child!" Frollo ordered, pointing a thin, jeweled finger in her direction. "You know not of what you speak!"

"She knows enough!" Esmeralda countered, throwing Sophia a small expression of thanks and . . maybe . . impression? "My people have suffered greatly under your iron claws! You mistreat this poor innocent the same way as them! You speak of righteousness and yet you ignore those most in need of your help!"

The crowd gasped in response of her outburst, murmuring and discomfort began to sweep through the people witnessing the scene. Sophia couldn't help but feel some satisfaction for her own outcry, after all, she had finally done it. She had finally faced the man that had caused Quasi such pain and suffering.

"Insolence!" The judge thundered, throwing out an arm in rage. "Seize them both!"

**Sorry for the short chapter this time, but I decoded to stop here so I would have more motivation to write the next chapter. Boy even I can't wait, so much is gonna happen! I won't give away anything though and once again, I'm very sorry about the lack of updating. Please don't hurt me! Anyway, everyone have a very merry Christmas and Happy New Years too!**


	9. A Side She Never Knew

**I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Years! And if not, then I hope this new chapter will help make it better! I'm so glad to be back and once agin, I offer my apologies for not updating sooner. Thank you for all your prayers for my family. The death of my aunt has been hard on us so many thanks for your concideration and love. ****Once again, I would like to pay tribute to all my reviewers and readers for commenting and reading this story and giving me such wonderful inspiration and encouragment.**

**CityCat**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Ariella and her twin sister Daniella**

**and . . **

**grapejuice101!**

**Chapter Nine**

**A Side She Never Knew**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

_'No!'_

Raw panic ensued within him, tearing at his throat and clutching at his heart. Forget the fear and terror he felt before, it meant absolutely nothing to him now. In its place however, was great alarm and concern for Sophia and the ebony-haired woman that stood beside her. He was to blame for this. If only he hadn't left the bell tower, both women would be safe! Both women wouldn't be standing up on this horrid platform trying to shield him from his master, wouldn't be humiliated in front of the city's people. Both would be better off never knowing him at all! He had brought them nothing but shame! No good ever came from knowing a monster!

A flash of gold suddenly caught Quasi's eye and his gaze flickered to its source. He found that the cause of the flash was the sunlight reflecting off the armor of a man, a man who sat upon a white stallion. He was tall, muscular, and above all else, quite dashing. His golden locks peeked out from under his golden helm fell almost into his eyes, his skin was lightly tan but not overly so, and he wore the armor of the Captain of the Guards. Though, the position's official title was Captain of the King's Archers but to the people, the position was called Captain of the Guards. It seemed to lower the position down a notch or two in order to keep the man in a more humbler frame of light.

This golden clad man snapped his gloved fingers at the guards that flanked him and then extended a finger in their direction. It must have been an order of some kind because eight or so guards took up positions around the platform, circling around the wooden structure, and leaving no room for escape. Quasi felt his body freeze in terror. They were trapped!

"Let's see here," Esmeralda tapped her chin in a pondering manner, a sly grin upon her face. "Five, six, seven, eight . . . There's ten of you and three of us. Now, don't you think that's a bit unfair?"

The grin grew and without any warning to Sophia or himself, the ebony haired woman took a handkerchief from her blouse and blew into it. A cloud of dark purple dust arose around them, blinding them from the guards and crowd below them. Quasi closed his eyes in order to prevent any of the power from destroying his sight but, when he had opened them, he found that Sophia and himself were suddenly alone on the platform. Esmeralda was nowhere to be seen.

"She left us?!" Sophia was standing almost shoulder to shoulder with him on his left, her light blue eyes a shade or two lighter in anger. "I can't believe it! She left us for . . ."

"Oh, boys," Came a taunting, flirtatious shout. "I'm over here!"

Quasi turned to look over into the crowd, his eyes widening in shock. Esmeralda was being carried away by the crowd and not only her, but her goat companion as well! He had to admit, she certainly had an air for drama and excitement. For the most part, it had worked. More than half of his master's guards had removed their attention from Sophia and himself and instead, went after the ebony haired woman! She was using herself as a distraction!

He watched mesmerized as Esmeralda lead the guards on a frantic chase about the square, jumping to and fro and performing several stunts of acrobatics that he was sure that no one could have done unless they had trained relentlessly for many years. She was a blur of black, tan, and purple; never standing still and never allowing those chasing her to gain any ground. She was swift and unattainable. Watching her move the way she did, watching how the guards tried again and again to catch her, it was like trying to catch smoke. Impossible. She was just too fast and too quick for them.

She was . . incredible.

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She just couldn't believe it. The woman was distracting the guards! For them! Sophia felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She shouldn't had been so quick to assume that Esmeralda would leave them after she had just stood up to Frollo and the citizens of Paris. She too had risked her life to help Quasi. Speaking of her friend, he seemed in awe at watching the ebony haired woman fly across the square and playing the guards as utter fools. He had this strange expression on his face that the young redhead couldn't place. It was a mixture of awe, admiration, and something else. Something that Sophia was terribly afraid to place.

However, she didn't have time to ponder what exactly had come over her friend.

A lone guard had slowly, and quietly, worked his way up the steps of the platform and, before Sophia could react, lunged forward and took hold of her arm. She cried out in pain as the man roughly tore her away from Quasi, raising dagger to her collarbone in the process. The cold steel of the blade was enough to send her into a wild panic, but all she managed was a small mew of fear.

"Don't you move girl," He growled, his voice hard and rough. "Or that pretty little neck of yours will have a nice, red ribbon around it."

Cold fear washed over her and she had to steel herself not to move, not to fight back. The urge to kick him in the stones was very tempting at the moment but she knew the guard would be able to outmaneuver her. The man had her pinned firmly against him, her wrists held tightly in one of his thickly gloved hands. She could not escape.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

A burning rage hit him so hard he didn't have time to properly sort his emotions. One moment he was watching Esmeralda lead the guards on a wild chase across the square, feeling nothing but awe for her sacrifice; the next, Sophia's small form was pulled violently away from him, a knife pressed firmly to her pale neck. His emotions raged uncontrollably within him, feeling nothing but anger and a twinge of fear at the sight of the guard who had his dearest friend pinned against his body.

"Let her _go_!" It escaped him as a low growl, his chest vibrating from the sound.

Still keeping an eye on the guard, Quasi slowly shifted his attention to Sophia. What he found there, broke his heart several times over. As he looked upon her face, he was met with nothing but fear, terror, and such paleness. He glowered darkly at the man, his once kind, sky blue orbs darkening to a cerulean shade. The guard visibly flinched under Quasi's dark gaze and for an instance, faltered in decision. Then, composing himself, only pressed the blade harder against Sophia's neck. This time, the blade cut slightly into the pale flesh and a bead of crimson welled from the wound. A small, almost silent cry of pain escaped the small redhead; her face twisting in pain and a lone tear slid down her cheek.

"One move _monster_," The man spat the word with such hate and disgust that under normal circumstances Quasi would have flinched. "And the girl dies!"

It was enough. That one tear, that one small cry of pain was just enough cause for Quasi to act. This man was _harming_ her! _Hurting_ her! The one person in his small, lonely world who did not fear him; did not think him a monster; and did not look at him with contempt. He let go of his timidness, his gentleness, for it would do him no good here, and faster than the guard thought possible, launched himself forward with a cry of rage upon his lips.

He would not let any more harm come to her. He would protect her, just as she had protected him.

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

A new fear threatened to overtake her. Something within Quasi had changed and it was not a change that she liked at all. His eyes had shifted, darkened to a cerulean hue that seemed to burn with a rage she had never seen before within her gentle friend. His gentleness had vanished, his timidness was non-existent. He was . . . angry. In all the years she had known him, Sophia had never seen him angry before. Frustrated yes, annoyed yes, but angry? No, never. The growl he had released from his chest sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Somewhere deep within her, she knew he would never cause her harm, that he would never hurt her, but seeing him like this . . it was frightening.

_'Oh Quasi. Don't. Please don't.'_

She was afraid he would lose himself. Lose that part of him that made him who he truly was. He was not a violent person, was not one who lived in anger and rage. He was _kind_. He was _good_. He . . he meant the world to her! The thought of losing any part of him scared her more than the blade that was currently being held to her throat.

_'Don't lose who you are Quasi. Please. I . . I _love_ you!'_

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

The guard didn't even have time to move before his large, powerful hand latched itself around the wrist holding the blade to Sophia's pale column.

"You will not _touch_ her!" He barked sharply.

He tightened his grip ever so slightly so that the blade fell from the man's hand and clattered against the floor of the wooden platform. Then, using just a little of his overwhelming strength, pulled him away from the young redhead, thus freeing her from his grasp. He saw Sophia scrambled away from the guard as fast as her small feet could carry her and take refuge behind him. Still holding the guard's wrist in one hand, Quasi brought up the other to the front of the man's shirt and lifted him slightly off the floor of the platform.

"Please!" The guard begged, the light brown of his eyes peeking out from the slits in the visor. "Put me down! I didn't hurt her! I'm sorry! I'm _sorry_!"

A small hand suddenly touched his left shoulder, gently applying enough pressure to coax him to look at the owner. He turned his head, Sophia gazed up at him (_she was roughly about half an inch shorter than him_), her pale blue eyes silently pleading with him. Her left hand was clutched firmly against the small stream of crimson that steadily dripped down her collarbone. Just seeing her blood seeping from the wound was enough for him to want to crush the man's throat beneath his hand.

"Quasi," Her voice was small, quiet, . . . cautious?

That was not the voice he knew as Sophia's. She was not a quite person. She was loud, she was boisterous, she was always sure of herself when she spoke. It was this change in tone that calmed the rage that threatened to consume him, that small, unsure voice that drew him back.

"Don't."

It sounded like a plead! She . . she didn't want him to . . Oh Lord! Quasi dropped the man as if he had been burned. The guard scampered away from him and fled down the wooden steps and into the crowd. He felt panic ensue within him. He had wanted to _kill_! He had been willing to end a human life! He took several unsteady steps backwards, fear and disgust at himself rising fast. He felt his hands clamp themselves to the sides of his skull, shaking his head back and forth in horror. He felt was of he was going to be sick. Horribly, terribly sick! He truly _was_ a monster!

The sky above him had darkened to an almost blackish haze. Rain began to descend hard from the black clouds that now blocked out the blue that was the sky and the sun that had shone down so warmly on his skin. He felt something warm press up against his left side and, at first, he dared not to look. He didn't want to see the disgust and fear in those pale blue eyes. He couldn't bare it! He didn't deserve to have her as a friend any longer. He had no right to her friendship, not after what he could have done! What he had come so very close to doing!

"Quasi?"

He couldn't look at her! He just couldn't!

"Quasi, please."

Don't look! You don't deserve her! You don't deserve to look upon a face such as her's!

"Oh, Quasi!"

He felt her thin arms come around his middle, felt her small frame press against his pulp spattered clothing. He felt her small hands rub warmth into his now bare back, not afraid to pass over the large and deformed hump that rested on his right side. He felt her soft, short curls tickle his chin as she buried her head into his left shoulder. Unaware of what he was doing, Quasi buried his face in those soft curls; letting the scent of pears and honeysuckle wash over him, comfort him.

"It's alright Quasi, it's all over now. You're safe. I'm safe. And, I think, Esmeralda is safe as well."

The sound of approaching hoofbeats forced Quasi to remove himself from Sophia's embrace and shove her behind him, hiding her from his master's piercing gaze. As his master came up beside the platform, he sent the young hunchback a withering and thoroughly angered glare. Quasi bowed his head in submission, understanding what Frollo was silently conveying to him.

"I'm sorry master," His voice came out hoarse and trembling. "I'll never disobey you again."

His master glowered at him a second more, his gaze causing Quasi to flinch violently and shrink back from the robed man, but did not physically move backward for fear that Frollo would spot the young woman behind him. Frollo gave him a curt nod and urged his black stallion forward. Once his master rounded the corner of Notre Dame towards the churches stables, Quasi stumbled over to the railing of the platform, placed a hand to brace himself, and threw himself over the side. He landed sure and true, knees bent and then threw out his arms in encouragement for Sophia to follow him.

"It's easy," He whispered up at her, his voice barely audible. "I'll catch you, I promise."

He watched as she gave him a small, questioning look, then looked down to judge the height in which she would have to jump; a speck of fear still emanate in her eyes. The rain falling harder around her slight frame and soaking through her pale, blue blouse and the dark green skirt that she wore about her waist. They both clung to her like a second skin and her bright red hair had turned dark and was clinging to her face. In truth, she looked like a half drowned kitten. She looked up and gave him a single, small nod and then, in the same manner has he had, launched herself clear over the side.

He reached out and plucked her out of the air, letting her settle against him for a moment before placing her back on her own two feet. Technically, the day was still young so he took one of her small hands in his and led her towards Notre Dame's great oak doors. He ignored the people that parted to let him through, looked over the sneer's of disgust, and the yelps of women who turned their faces from him. He ignored them all, because they didn't matter anymore. The outside world no longer held any appeal to him. He wrenched opened the center door and allowed Sophia and himself to slip inside the comfort and warmth of the only home that he had ever known. Notre Dame cathedral.

All that mattered now was his tower, Notre Dame, his friends Victor, Hugo, Laverne, and the bells. They were his family, his home. They were the ones who loved him, who cared for him, who opened their arms and embraced him. Perhaps even, Sophia would still wish to remain his friend. They and they alone could ever possibly love the monster that he was; could ever truly love him. He would never set foot outside Notre Dame's embrace for as long as he lived. He would remain in his sanctuary for the rest of his natural life. This, he vowed.

**Well everyone that's all for now. I hope this chapter turned out to be a success. I liked this idea because after all, the story is told mostly from Quasi's and Sophia's points of view. I like that idea rather than switching from Frollo to Esme, to Sophia, to Quasi all the time. Though, I may do it occuationally for Frollo, Esme, and Phoebus. Oh yes, Phoebus! Such plans I have for him! Sorry, you'll get no hints from me. But there are going to be some unexpected twists coming up in the next two chapters. Just wait and see.**

**Thank you everyone for reading and tune in next time! Good Night!**


	10. Of Healing and Song

**Since I was on a roll last night, I decided to post this chapter earlier than expected! I hope you all enjoy! Plus, we begin to see some tender moments between our main heros! Onward!**

**Chapter Ten**

**Of Healing and Song**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She was seated on the floor of Quasi's sleeping tent, a basin of hot water off to her right and a white cloth clutched in her hand. Gently, she wiped away the pulpy mess that had dried over the pale skin of his face, chest, and back. His now stained and torn tunic lay not far off from her, forgotten and abandoned. Quasi was seated directly in front, his back facing her so as to allow her to wipe away the fruit and vegetable mess.

"You have done enough Sophia. Allow me see the wound."

Was it possible for his already soft and timid voice to become any softer? It must have been because that's exactly what his tone sounded like. Even since they had reached the bell tower and began cleaning up the pulverized mess that was his hair and upper body, Quasi had become so silent and withdrawn. Sophia was beginning to worry about him. True, he was normally a soft spoken person in the first place and yes, he did enjoy listening to her talk more than him but still. He had not spoken much since she had finished his hair and began working on his chest and back.

"No Quasi, I'm almost finished. Allow me to take care of you before we worry about me. Besides," She added offhandedly. "It is not as bad as it looks."

Just as she had cleaned away the last of the pulp, Quasi turned and gently took her wrist holding the cloth in his hold. She sat there in surprise, not sure how to place the current expression he wore. It was a mixture of concern, fear, and something else she could not place.

"Quasi," She started, feeling slightly breathless.

"Sophia I . . ." He trailed off and looked over through the flap of the tent to gaze at his work table.

He turned fully around so he was facing her directly, then he took the cloth from her hand but still did not relinquish his hold on the small appendage. He gazed down at it as if it was the most interesting and beautiful thing he had ever seen, even running his thumb over a scar just above the first knuckle.

"Are you . . alright?" He asked timidly, still not quite looking at her. "That man, he could have . . could have _killed_ you."

So that was the root of the issue. He was worried about _her_. Sophia sighed softly, not sure if she was ready to talk about it and, in truth, she really wasn't. She had been terrified, the event as a whole had been terrifying. Quasi being led up on the platform, him being assaulted by the people of Paris, seeing him tied down to that horrible wheel and displayed like a common animal. Even worse, trying to get to him over and over. Trying so hard to reach him and end his torment but being stopped over and over. It seemed like it had taken an eternity to reach him.

Sophia leaned forward and gently placed a hand on his bare shoulder, giving it a comfortable squeeze. "Quasi, I am _fine_. Right now, I am more worried about you. If anything, it is you who needs comfort; not me."

His head snapped up so fast that Sophia had to move her head back to avoid connecting with it. "How can you be so calm!" He did not shout, but he seemed so shocked, so confused by her response. "You could have been killed and yet you are more concerned with my well-being? Why?!"

_'Because I love you.' _Her mind answered, but she did not voice it.

"Because you are my friend Quasi." She insisted instead, trying to make him see her side of the situation. "Because I have never had a friend like you before. I meant what I said earlier today Quasi, there is no one else in Paris I trust more than _you_."

"I do not deserve your friendship," He stated coolly, turning his head away from her. "Nor do I deserve your trust. I have done nothing but cause you hardship and strife. If not for me, you would have never had that man hold a blade to your throat."

Anger rose within her, but she stomped it down, refusing to let him see it. Why did he always place the blame on himself? Why did he feel like he was the one responsible? It was her fault. She had insisted that he go. Insisted that he get out of the bell tower and start thinking for himself; stop letting Frollo control him and look at the result! This is what came of her pestering and insistence!

"Don't you _dare!_" Sophia firmly gripped both of his shoulders and forced him to meet her gaze. "Don't you think for one minute this was your fault! The blame lies with me and me _alone!_"

Quasi's eyes widened at her seriousness and agitation; he had rarely seen her like this. "Sophia," he murmured softly, surprised at her insistence.

"No Quasi!" She interrupted, shaking her head wildly and staring at the floor beneath her. "It was by my pestering and begging that caused you to give in and go. I was the one who was being selfish and self-absorbed. I didn't listen at all!"

By now, hot tears were threatening to pour over. Sophia tried to contain them, tried not to let them fall, but it was futile. The emotional stress was weighting to heavily upon her, threatening to engulf her. She wanted to cry, she wanted to hold Quasi to her and never let him go. But she couldn't. She was the one who didn't deserve _him_. She was the one who had done this to him. She was the one to blame. She wanted Quasi to yell at her, to scream at her for what she had done. She wanted him to be angry at _her_, not himself.

"Sophia."

His voice was gentle, yet there was a firmness there that told her to look up. She couldn't. After all she had done to him, she didn't deserve to look at him ever again. How could she call herself his friend now? How could she say she loved him when she had caused him pain? How?

"Sophia, _please_."

Now he was begging her; she couldn't resist him when he did that. She never could. Her hold on his shoulders loosened, then fell away entirely. She couldn't hold back the tears, her body shook as a result but she still did not raise her head. Suddenly, the back of a hand was underneath her chin and gradually pushing it upwards until her face was level with his. She closed her eyes immediately, shutting him out. She heard him sigh softly before he spoke again.

"Open your eyes."

He sounded tired, as if he really didn't want to press her and yet, felt it imperative that he do so.

"I . ." She tried to make her voice level, but it came out all wrong anyway. "I _can't!_" The last word left her as a sob.

He paused for a moment, then asked timidly, "Do you . . do you trust me?"

Did she trust him?! What a question! Oh course! There was no one else in all of Paris that she trusted more than him! She knew he would never lead her astray, never doubt her, never leave her, and would never, ever force her to do something she was not willing to do. She trusted him with her very life!

"Y-yes," She responded, still trying to stem the tears that she knew were falling down her cheeks. "With my life."

Oh dear! She didn't mean to voice that aloud! She did trust him, but suddenly revealing that she trusted him so much that she would put her life in his hands? Well, that kind of thing would scare the hell out of some people! His hand still hadn't left the spot from under her chin, but she could feel him give a start at her words. Great, now he'll pull away and . . .

Suddenly a hand reached out and caught her around the shoulders, pulling her forwards. She lost her balance and fell into something soft, firm, and ever so slightly, hairy. Sophia opened her eyes just in time to see Quasi fold his large, yet gentle arms around her still damp form; she had forgotten that she was still wet from the rain. It was then that full realization hit her. Quasi was holding her! A slight blush overcame her as she tried to clear her head and make sense, though, it was proving to be more difficult than she expected.

Quasi's figure was not like that of a regular man's. His back was bent and slightly twisted, his legs seemed to thin to support him but they were stronger than one thought at first glance, his arms were overly muscular from pulling the heavy iron bells day after day for twenty years, but it was his torso that she never really had an idea of. Now that he had her nuzzled against him, she could tell that it was not toned. It was loose and soft. Warm. There was muscle of that there was no doubt, but it was not finely toned like many other men's were. It was not defined, yet, there was such warmth and comfort! Something at this point she desperately needed.

"It is alright Sophia," He murmured, his chest vibrating rhythmically as he spoke. "Let it go."

Then the tears she had been trying to keep at bay finally released themselves from her lids and a shuttering sob escaped her. Sophia gave in and just let the stress and worry flow out of her and into her friend who tightened his arms around her, creating a circle of protection and, in her mind, love. She felt one of Quasi's large hands rub comforting and soothing circles into her back and that just made her cry all the more. That he still cared about her, that he wasn't angry with her or mad in any way. It simply amazed her of how much tolerance and patience he had.

After a minutes of crying, Sophia finally got a hold of herself and stemmed the last of the tears. She felt so much better! Much, much, much better! By now, Quasi was slowly stroking her hair, which, was still damp as well as her clothes. Realizing this, she reluctantly pulled away from him and wiped a stray tear from her eyes.

"Quasi," She began, a slight giggle escaping her. "I'm all wet."

"I . . um . ." He trailed off, a nervous and thoroughly embarrassed hint in his voice.

Realizing how awkward this was, Sophia decided to change the subject before things got _too_ awkward.

"Sorry for all that," She offered quietly. "I didn't mean to . . ."

"Sophia, it's alright," Quasi just looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "You needed it."

She smiled back, "I think we both did."

She watched slightly amused as his face flushed a light pink before moving to stand. Sophia moved to follow him, but he reached out and gently grasped her shoulder, carefully guiding her to sit down again. Confused as to why, Sophia offered a puzzled look but he only shook his head and hobbled out of the tent. As he lifted the flap, he threw her a pleading look that told her to stay put and then he was gone. She sighed. What was he up to? She got her answer a moment later when he returned with a fresh cloth, a small bowl, a bottle of wine, and clean bandages.

"Now," He began, resuming his seat in front of her. "Let me take care of that wound."

Sophia grimaced as he laid out all his supplies and poured a little of the wine into the bowl. She was not going to enjoy this one bit. "Can't we just leave it as is?"

Quasi gave her a pointed look, "No we cannot. If we do, it may get infected and that will be of no help to anyone. Now, let me see."

Reluctantly, she pulled her blouse slightly to the side (_she didn't have to move it much since the cut was closer to her collarbone_) and allowed Quasi to examine it. Tentatively, he prodded it with one of his fingers, tilting his head this way and that so as to know the best way of treating it.

"How is it you know medicine?" She asked curiously, tilting her head in the opposite direction so as not to be in his light.

"Books," He replied simply. "From the archdeacon's library. He taught me a great deal about healing and medicine. From what I could not learn from him, I learned from his books."

Even after knowing him for ten years, Quasi still managed to surprise her with numerous facts about himself she could never have guessed. She knew he loved reading, she did too. But she didn't know that he had learned medicine from them or that he could for that matter. Still, for a day like today, his medical skills were much appreciated. Even if the wine stung like hell. As he gently cleaned the cut, Sophia could tell by the strained look on his face that he was battling something internally. Something that was making it very hard for him to keep calm.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, not sure if it was an answer he wanted to give.

He sighed, put down the now bloody rag, and began bandaging the cut. He was trying not to think about it, trying to keep his hands busy and his mind clear; of this, Sophia was certain. It was a moment or two before he spoke.

"I-" He paused, as if unsure to continue. "I never felt so . . enraged before."

It didn't take Sophia long to understand what he was talking about. "Quasi, you were scared. When people are scared they react in ways that under normal circumstances they wouldn't. You didn't hurt him, that's what matters."

"But I could have," He argued, his tone turning dark. "I could have easily killed him if I wanted too. And I did, I wanted to. If you had not have stopped me-"

She shook her head in disagreement, "That's where you're wrong. I don't think you could have, even if you were in that kind of a rage. Quasi," Sophia reached out and pressed a hand to his heart. "You would have stopped even if I hadn't. I know it."

"How can you be so sure?" He asked incredulously, shaking his head and tying off the ends of the bandage. "How do you know that I wouldn't have?"

Sophia smiled at him, "Because I know _you_, Quasi. I know the kind of person you truly are and you would not have killed him because your heart would not have allowed you to."

He opened his mouth in protest but something far off in the distance stopped him. He raised his head and looked toward the sound, his face widening in surprise. His whole body went still as he listened intently to . . . whatever it was. Taken aback by his strange behavior, Sophia too, stilled herself in order to hear what he was hearing. For several moments, she couldn't hear anything that would warrant Quasi's current behavior. Then, she heard it! The tell-tale voice of someone singing!

It sounded far off, like it was coming from the sanctuary. But, as far as Sophia knew, there was no choir practice scheduled for today and, whoever the person was, sounded like they were singing alone. She cast her friend a questioning glance but Quasi was too absorbed in the voice to notice. She sighed. There was no point in just sitting around here wondering; may as well investigate.

"Come on," Sophia rose to her feet and headed for the tent flap. "Let's see who it is."

This snapped Quasi out of his dreamlike state. "W-what?"

She rolled her eyes in slight frustration, her hand paused on the flap. "Don't pretend you don't want to. The way you were looking just now was priceless."

He blushed furiously, his cheeks staining a deep red. "I . . well . . um . ."

"Oh, for the love of-" Sophia briskly walked back over to him, took his hand in hers, and led him out of the tent. "Come on!"

As she led him out of the bell tower and through Notre Dame to the sanctuary, she couldn't help a small smile from spreading across her face as Quasi's hand tightened around her own. A warm, tingling feeling ran up her arm and straight to her heart. Holding his hand was definably one of her favorite things, even if his hand was so large that it engulfed it completely. Still, she clutched the edge of his hand in hers for that was all her small hand could grasp. She would never let go it she could help it. Never.

. . .

They reached the sanctuary minutes later, still pleased to find that the woman (_they finally identified the voice as such when they got closer_) was still continuing her somber tune. As Sophia reached the balcony that overlooked the practitioners and monks below, she noticed one figure looked very displaced. Upon closer examination, she found it was La Esmeralda! And never straying far from her skirts was her little white goat companion!

She was singing a prayer of some sort to the Virgin Mary, conveying her pleads for her people and those who had been forgotten by the world. It struck a cord somewhere within her and a tear or two welled from her eyes. It was beautiful, simply beautiful. They followed the young gypsy about from the upper levels, soaking in her voice and words. Now that Sophia had spent more time around her, even if it was without the young woman noticing, she liked her. She wasn't the person she had thought she was before.

And it seemed Quasi had taken a liking to her as well.

She shook her head, this foolishness had to stop. This jealousy she had of the gypsy was utterly useless and unfounded. Quasi barely knew her and the only reason he was so smitten with her was because she was something new in his world; something he had never experienced. That did not mean that he . . . right? Again, she shook her head. This was utterly ridiculous!

They eventually found their way down to the ground floor just in time to hear Esmeralda end her song which, ended on quite a high note. Literally. The ebony haired woman then knelt down and embraced the goat beside her in a tight, loving hug. The kid seemed to mean a lot to her. The little goat raised his head at bleated softly, as if conveying his affection for her. The woman smiled warmly down at him and offered his head a gentle pet.

Suddenly, one of the doors to the cathedral burst open and Frollo, followed by several soldiers entered with spears and swords drawn.

"Arrest her!"

**Ohhhh! Wasn't expecting that were you! I decided to switch Frollo's and Pheobus's interaction with Esme after she does the song. I think it'll play out for the best this way so all the characters get enough screentime in the story so to speak. Anyway, please leave a nice little comment in the box below! It really helps!**


	11. Enter the Captain of the King's Archers

**Alright people! I'm on a roll! I've got another chapter for everyone! I know right? This is like the third one in two days! How long I can keep this up? I have no clue. But while my muse is working with me, I'm gonna keep crunching out chapters for as long as I can. Here we go with Chapter Eleven!**

**Chapter Eleven**

******Enter the Captain of the King's Archers**

_**Third person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Not wanting a repeat of what happened in the square, Sophia pulled Quasi and herself behind one the massive stone pillars and hoped to the Lord in heaven that neither Frollo or his men would spot them. She peered around the edge of the stone structure so that she could at least get some glimpse of the scene playing out between Esmeralda and Frollo. The ebony haired woman stood proudly, her back straight and her head held high. She made it perfectly clear with her posture that she wasn't going to let the judge intimidate her. Frollo began to march towards her, anger and something else glinted in his eyes; something that made Sophia feel very dirty. She tried to repress the shiver that traveled violently down her spine but could not hide it entirely.

"Are you alright?" Quasi's gentle, whispering tone had a slight vibration in it, as if someone had tapped a very small bell.

As quick as the ugly feeling and shiver had come, it was gone the moment he spoke. How did he do it? How did the very sound of his voice erase all worries, all sad and horrible feelings from her? How did he always make her feel safe, even from her own mind?

"I'm fine," She whispered back, her focus still on Esmeralda. "What do we do Quasi? She helped us. We have to _do_ something!"

Frollo reached Esmeralda and seized her by the upper arm, twisting it just so that it was now pinned behind her while his other hand took hold of her opposite wrist. The judge placed himself full behind her so as to avoid her kicking out at him. In response, Sophia felt Quasi stiffened beside her in anger. Reacting quickly, she drew herself back behind the pillar and took hold of his forearms, pressing him hard against the pillar.

"No Quasi!" She hissed up at him, trying to keep her voice from drawing any attention. "Charging out there will not help her! You are already in enough trouble as it is; you'll only make matters for her worse!"

He glared down at her, which in itself was intimidating, but Sophia would not be phased by his aggression. His blue eyes flashed with some emotion she couldn't place. Anger? Concern? Desperation?

"I cannot just stand here and do nothing!" He growled lightly, his voice trembling with emotion. Which, she was not sure. "She risked her life for me! I can't just-"

"Just what?!" She retorted in hushed tones, her voice sharp. "Risk your life in return? Then what Quasi? It will just be an endless cycle of rescuing and sacrifice. Do you think she wants that? In any case, Frollo will . . ." She paused, not wanting to finish. "Frollo will punish you in the worst way possible if you do."

The last sentence left her as barely audible, so quiet that even Quasi had trouble hearing it. She let her head fall against the middle of his chest, her hands still gripping his forearms in a deathlike grasp. She didn't want to see him in any more pain. As much as she knew she owed the gypsy woman, she couldn't let her friend, the person she loved the most, risk his life for her. She knew she was being selfish, that it was a very self-centered wish on her part, but she couldn't allow Quasi to directly oppose Frollo. It would only result in more pain for him and she was not about to place him in even more hot water than he already was.

Then, an idea suddenly came to her.

"Quasi," This time her voice was stronger, firmer. "Promise me something?"

The question was enough to throw him of guard and distract him, but just in case, she didn't remove the pressure from his forearms.

"Yes?" He replied, his voice returning to its normal gentle pitch. Though, a hint of questioning and confusion remained.

"Don't leave the shadows." She could only hope that he would listen to her.

"What?!" There was no masking the surprise and downright shock in his voice, but she had to make sure.

"Promise me!" She hissed insistently, looking up and meeting his eyes head on.

His eyes widened at her solid and serious gaze. Her eyes burned with a look of dead serious he had never seen before. A look that made him want to shrink away from the hard gaze she was piercing him with. However, his back was firmly placed against the stone of the pillar; he could not pull away.

"I-I promise." He agreed, though she could tell abet reluctantly.

She nodded in response. He had promised, now was the time to see if he would honor it. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaned her brow against his chest, took a deep breath, and then bolted from the safety of the stone pillar. As her body began to move away, Quasi reached out and tried to stop her. As her right hand trailed the rest of the way down his arm, he opened his hand to catch her wrist and drag her back. But it was too late. Her hand past over his own and just as he closed his fingers in the hope of trapping her, he found all he had caught was empty air. She was gone.

"Let her go Frollo!" Sophia warned as she stepped towards the judge.

Frollo violently jerked his head away from Esmeralda's hair as if he had been burned. She inwardly shuddered in disgust, so that was part of the reason he wanted her captured. A tiny part of her felt insulted. What was she? Pig slop? Then remembering the fact that it was Frollo, that small part of her disappeared. No one would want him, could want him. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had to get Esmeralda out of this. But how?

"You," He sneered, the corner of his lip curling upwards as if he smelled something rotten.

Now that she had his full attention, Sophia wasn't sure what to do next and fear began to bubble in the pit of her stomach. The only good thing that came so far from her interference was that Frollo had released Esmeralda from his claw-like hands and shoved her away from him. She caught him like a child with his hands in the honey pot, but that was of little comfort now.

"You were the girl who spoke against me." Frollo's face darken, as if a shadow had suddenly fell over him. "For what purpose?"

It was a command. A demand. An order. An expectation. One which Sophia actually wanted to answer.

"Because what you were doing to him was cruel and unjust," She retorted, keeping her voice cool and emotionless. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger riled. "Even after he pleaded with you to end it, to save him. You did _nothing_ to stop it."

"A lesson-" Frollo began, his voice rising in anger but she cut him off.

Deep down she knew she was going to regret her words but she couldn't stop herself. This was her chance, her chance to tell this cruel, unkind, shell of a man what she really thought of him. It was too late to stop now.

She stalked up to him, her anger steadily rising. "You left him up on that platform for all of Paris to humiliate and torture. You _used_ him as an example of what happens when someone disobeys you. He is nothing but a tool to you!"

"Enough!" The judge bellowed, his steel gray eyes flashing with unmeasured rage. "You go to far girl!"

Quicker than she thought possible, Frollo covered the rest of the distance between them, roughly six feet, and backhanded the young redhead across the cheek. The razor sharp edges of his rings cut cleanly into the soft flesh as they made contact. Sophia cried out in pain and surprise, falling to the black and white checkered title beneath her feet. She raised a shaky hand to the right side of her face were she could feel the sticky wetness of what had to be blood. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she held them at bay. She would not allow _him_ to see her cry.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

In all the years he had known his master, he never would have believed that he would strike out against a woman. Shocking disbelief hit him harder than any of the heavy, iron bells he missed catching in his early years as bell ringer. He knew his master had a temper and at times, would act on it; mostly at him. But seeing Sophia laying on the ground, clutching her cheek in pain and seeing his master standing over her prepared to strike again . . .

He felt so torn! Sophia was his friend, his confidante, someone who he could share his small world with! She meant so much to him! More than he could ever hope to describe and yet, and yet Frollo was his master! He saved him when he was only a babe. He gave him a home, an education, food and water, and faith! If not for him he would be dead, but . . seeing _her_ fall at the hands of the man who raised him caused such conflict to surface within him! He didn't know what to do! How to act!

He wanted to come out of hiding and run to her side. He didn't want his master to hit her ever again! As much as he owed himself to the judge, he couldn't let Sophia undergo physical punishment! No, never that! He would rather be beaten than for Frollo to ever, _ever_ lay a hand against her! He never meant for this to happen to her. Never! But, what could he do? He promised. He gave her his word he would not leave the shadows of the pillar and never once in his life did he break an oath. At least, when that oath was to her.

She opened his life to new possibilities and wonders. She shone him what he could do when he really focused and put his heart into it. She made him feel _alive_! Deep in his heart, _she_ was the one who had truly saved him. Ever since their friendship began ten years ago, there wasn't a day that went by when he felt alone. Because he knew she would be there! She would stand at the door to his tower and allow light to enter his dark world! Now, that light who had grown so close to his heart, lay on the cold tile of Notre Dame, clutching her now swollen and cut cheek.

His own master had struck out against her and done her physical harm. His nightmare had come true. For the past five years, Quasi had horrible nightmares envisioning Frollo finding out his secret. They always ended the same, Frollo striking a blow against her and dragging her down into darkness while he watched. He was always powerless to stop it because he couldn't move or speak. No matter what he tried he just couldn't move! Then, he would wake up drenched in a cold sweat and tears would be streaking down his face. Afterward, he couldn't go back to sleep for fear that he would have to witness the dream all over again. Now, that dream was playing out right before him.

A small, quiet sob escaped his lips and he buried his face in his hands. He wanted to pull her away! He wanted to take her back to the bell tower and hide her away from his master! He wanted her safe!

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

A dark shadow moved over Sophia, blocking out the multicolored sunlight that shone through the rose window. Frollo stood over her, prepared to launch another blow at her face, his jeweled hand raised accordingly. Just as his hand swings out, a blur of purple and white suddenly blocked her vision and a resounding _smack_ echoed through the cathedral. She froze in shock as Esmeralda's face snapped sideways, but she did not fall. The ebony haired woman remained standing, everything about her speaking of defiance and rage.

"What judge executes a sentence before a trial is carried out?" Esmeralda barked angrily through clenched teeth, clearly ignoring the welt that was beginning to form upon her right cheek. "What law has this girl committed to warrant such a blow? None that I can see, _Your Honor_."

The young gypsy spat the title back at Frollo as if it was something foul she had eaten. His face contorted into a mask of pure rage, his eyes ablaze with a fire so dark that Sophia, who was still laying on the tile floor, scrambled as far away from him as she could before getting to her feet again. The way his hair curled at that moment, his gray fiery eyes, his thin lips . . . he looked like a devil from hell! True fear now clung to her like a second skin, a fear like she had never felt before in her life. This was a different fear than the one she'd felt for Quasi in the square. This was fear of something evil. Pure evil.

"The two of you will live to regret this offense." Frollo glowered at them, his baritone lowered to an even darker tone. He narrowed his gaze at them before turning and calling out, "Captain!"

Both women whirled about to see a man in his late twenties, early thirties approaching them from a group of guards roughly fifteen feet from them. He wore armor made of gold, stood roughly about six feet tall, his equally golden locks fell into eyes from underneath his helm, and he wore a longsword on his left side indicating he was right handed. His stride spoke confidence, but he seemed to strut like a proud rooster. This made him appear way too full of himself.

"Sir," The Captain saluted Frollo before falling into a stance of at ease.

"Bring these two to the Palace of Justice," The judge pointed a thin, jeweled finger at Sophia and Esmeralda.

The Captain nodded in understanding but did not move from his spot. "On what charges Sir?"

Frollo looked taken aback at the inquiry, but quickly recovered. "For disruption Captain, I would have thought it obvious. The gypsy clearly made quite scene at the festival and this one," he shifted his arm to point out the small redhead. "This girl challenged authority, she was beginning to disrupt the parishioners."

Again the Captain nodded, "I understand Sir."

He turned and faced Sophia who moved to stand closer to Esmeralda. There was a pitying look in his eyes that made her feel confused. It was as if he really didn't want to take them in, but had no other choice. Frollo stepped forward and began the long trek towards the great oak doors, leaving the Captain behind.

"The two of you are to come with me." He announced calmly, moving forward to take Esmeralda's arm.

The young gypsy glared at him before dodging his movements, "We're not going anywhere."

The man sighed in frustration, rubbing his brow as if it would help alleviate the tension there. "See here, I don't want to take you in but I don't have a choice."

"There is always a choice," Esmeralda retorted in kind, her green eyes flashing in the dim light.

Her little white goat, who had been hiding at the time, came up beside her and he too threw the man a glare. Sophia could have sworn she saw the goat roll its eyes.

"Will you come quietly?" The Captain asked tiredly, resting a cheek on his right fist and looking bored. "Because I really don't want to use force. The two of you are far too pretty."

His last comment caught her so off guard, Sophia, who was in mid-step at the time, slipped and fell backwards. Strong arms caught her around the shoulders and suddenly leaning over her was the Captain himself. He offered her a large smile, his hazel eyes shining, then placed her back on her feet, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders just in case she fell again.

"That was close," The man laughed, a light joking tone in his voice. "I never took you for being clumsy."

Sophia blushed furiously, she didn't appreciate the fact that he voiced it out loud. At least Quasi knew not to mention it. He would always tell her to be careful next time or to hold onto the rail. He never pointed it out and laughed about it! She hated the fact she wasn't graceful; she was always falling over herself. Quasi would just tell her he liked that part of her, that it made her unique. Though, sometimes she wondered if he liked being able to catch her when she fell.

"Appearances are not always what they seem." Sophia retorted coldly, crossing her arms over her chest.

The Captain frowned, his laughter dying in his throat. "You're right, they aren't."

She reeled in surprise. She wasn't expecting this soldier to agree with her! This man was very different from the rest of Frollo's minions. He didn't blindly accept an order without understanding it fully and the fact he was being thoroughly honest with them was also intriguing.

"You're not at all like the other soldiers." Esmeralda commented, a look of wonder on her face.

"Thank you," The Captain bowed his head in her direction, a smile on his face. "My name is Phoebus. Phoebus de Chateaupers. And the two of you are . . .?"

"Esmeralda," The ebony haired woman answered simply. Though in Sophia's opinion, she seemed quite impressed by him.

"I am Sophia," The young redhead replied politely, but still unsure of this Phoebus. "Sophia Chevalier."

"Both beautiful names," Praised Phoebus, a genuine smile returning to his face. "Much better than Phoebus anyway."

Sophia wanted to snort, but instead raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. He seemed very much a flirt and she had enough experience with Thomas to know. Thomas was the one she pushed into the Seine last year because he wouldn't stop flirting with her. She really didn't care for men who tried so hard to get a woman's attention. It seemed all too forced in her opinion.

Suddenly Phoebus's face lit up and he had a strange grin one his face.

_'Oh no. That doesn't look encouraging at all.' _Sophia thought to herself, now suspicious of what was going through that head of his.

"I may have an idea of how to get you out of this mess." He grinned, moving closer to them before glancing back towards the doors where Frollo was now waiting for them. "Trust me?"

Trust him? Just like that? Her gaze flickered over to Frollo and the rest of his mangy gang of mindless bastards. In all honesty, they didn't have much of a choice.

"Alright, what's the plan?"

**Well, whatcha think of Phoebus? I kinda want to explore him a little more because he really isn't explored enough in the movie and yes, I will be taking SOME of his character from the book. Don't freak on me, he isn't going to turn evil on us or become a total pervert, but some of his characteristics will be from the book. Only a little though! Cause in the book he was a total perv and a bad guy.**

**Anyway, so I'm going to work on Phoebus and I think I'm more or less making this a combination of the book and movie. Sort of, this thing now has a complete mind of its own and I'm just going with it. I wanted to throw in Phoebus' last name from the book cause it gives him more depth. Oh! And in this story Phoebus is going to have much more screen time! He'll be much more involved and in some ways that may shock you. Ooooo!**

**I hope this chapter pleased you and please leave me a nice review in the box below! Much thanks!**


	12. Trapped Behind Stone Walls

**Hello again! I'm back and with Chapter Twelve in tow! Now we get to see how Esmeralda and Sophia escape Frollo! This chapter for some reason was harder to write than the last three. I'm not sure why. So this chapter I feel a bit unsure of, but please, don't kill me. If need be I'll do it over again. I'm comng up on some really hard choices to make with which directions I want to take and how I want them to play out. Next chapter is definatly going to be a challenge. But that's what makes writing fun! Challenges. Anyway! Onward my dear readers! Onward I say!**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Trapped Behind Stone Walls**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

What defined as a good idea was marching Sophia and Esmeralda, Phoebus between them, down towards the doors, each of their arms in his hold. Apparently this was all to be an act. The plan was, as he explained, simple. He told them that Frollo couldn't arrest them as long as they were inside Notre Dame and claimed sanctuary. So they were going to pretend to struggle with him while he marched them to the doors and when they got within earshot of Frollo, they would claim their freedom. Easy right? Sophia had her doubts.

As Phoebus gripped her left upper arm, Sophia stole a glance at the pillar that hid Quasi from sight. She sighed, wishing that he hadn't witnessed Frollo's attack. She knew he was dying to come out, but at this point it was better if he stayed where he was, both for his sake and for the sake of the plan. He was going to scold the life out of her when all this was said and done. She grimaced, she was not looking forward to it at all.

"Remember the plan?" Phoebus whispered as he leaned down to her level.

The act alone was difficult because he had to bend down a considerable amount. While Phoebus was roughly six feet tall, Sophia was barely over four and a half.

She nodded in reply as she whispered back, "This better work."

"You and me both," He laughed quietly before turning to Esmeralda, who was on his left, and repeating the question.

She sighed, she really did hope this idea of his worked, because if it didn't . . . She let the thought hang in her mind. She didn't want to think on it too much.

"I'm waiting Captain!" Frollo shouted from the doors, his impatience emanate in his tone.

"Ready?" The golden-haired man asked them quietly. Both Sophia and Esmeralda nodded in reply. "Alright then."

Phoebus raised his head and shouted down to Frollo, "Yes Sir! Just going over procedure!"

A grumbled 'Very well' floated down to them and Sophia couldn't help but snicker. As impatient as Frollo was being he still had enough constraint to show Phoebus enough respect. After all, from the look of him, the golden-haired soldier was indeed a trained warrior. That is, if the sword on his belt was anything to go by. It looked very authentic.

"Let us go," Encouraged Esmeralda, nodding towards the doors. "It would be best not to keep the wolf waiting."

And so they began the trek towards the doors. Nervousness coiled in her stomach as they passed the first series of pillars and she glanced back just in time to see Quasi poke his head out from behind his hiding place. She saw his eyes widen in horror as Phoebus led her and Esmeralda away and his mouth opened to mouth 'no'. Guilt filled her at seeing his thoroughly distraught expression, he didn't know that this was just an act.

'It's okay,' she mouthed back to him, hoping he would understand. 'It'll be fine.'

It did nothing to soothe the worried look he shot back at her. He was not fully convinced and Sophia's heart sank even lower. The sound of someone clearing their throat drew her attention from her friend and towards the source of the disruption. Frollo was standing in front of the center oak door, arms crossed and tucked accordingly into the wide sleeves, and looking very impatient. Phoebus pushed them onwards, this time quickening his pace so as not to keep the judge waiting further. This was definably not going to be an easy task.

"The two of you will be sent to the Palace of Justice to await appropriate disciplinary action for your crimes," Began Frollo as they came to a halt directly in front of him. "Which will be decided by myself and several other important figures."

Sophia's anger simmered on the boarder of outrage and pure onslaught. She wanted nothing more than to rip that stupid hat off his head and straggle him with the crimson tail. She clenched her fists tightly so not as not to completely forgo the plan. She had to try and ignore Frollo otherwise her temper would get the better of her and she would end up attacking him for real. That would not be the best idea in the world. Plus, she was liable to be sentenced to death for such an act. She bit her tongue in the effort to keep herself from answering back with a snarky retort. A sharp tongue would only cause more trouble than the situation was worth. After all, they were trying to get _out_ of being arrested; she didn't need jump from the frying pan _into_ the fire.

"Anything else you need Sir?" Phoebus asked tonelessly, resuming his role as soldier.

"No Captain," Frollo said curtly, then removed a hand from his sleeve and pointed it lazily at them. "Take them."

About six of the judge's ten men came forward to remove them from Phoebus' grasp. Sophia felt cornered with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. Exposed. A man reached out and grabbed her right arm and pulling her away from Phoebus entirely; he was none the gentle either. Meanwhile, Esmeralda too was having difficulties of her own. She was struggling hard against two of Frollo's burliest soldiers and seemed to be winning until another guard came up behind her and pulled hard on her raven waves. The gypsy woman cried out, both in surprise and in pain. Thinking that they put up enough of a fight, Sophia decided to act.

"Sanctuary! We claim Sanctuary!"

The soldiers hold on her faltered only the slightest bit, but that was all she needed. She ripped her arms from the two soldiers and took several unsteady steps back, her breathing labored and her chest rising and falling heavily. Esmeralda was able to throw off her own restrainers before rushing to Sophia's side. Phoebus, who had moved a considerable amount of feet away, stood in the shadow of a nearby pillar, a smug expression upon his face. Frollo looked absolutely furious. He shot the captain an accusing look, but he just held up his gloved hands in mock truce.

"I'm sorry sir," He seemed to be managing to pull off a pretty good ruse. "I didn't hear them say anything. They must have come up with this before I-"

The judge cut him off short and pointed an angry finger to the oak door behind him, "Then drag them outside and-"

Sophia prepared herself to grab Esmeralda's hand and bolt for the safety of the circular staircase but, just as she reached for the gypsy's hand, another set of footsteps approached. The young redhead turned slightly in the direction of the steps just in time to see the archdeacon round the corner of a nearby alcove and looking severely displeased.

"Frollo!" He pointed a stern finger at the judge, looking very displeased indeed.

She jumped, feeling as if she was the one who had done wrong. She had never heard the archdeacon speak in such angered tones before; it was quite intimidating to say the lest. She inwardly hoped she never got on his bad side and the very thought inwardly sent chills down her spine. Angering a man of the cloth was never a good idea. Never.

"You will not lay hands on these children!" The archdeacon scolded, giving the judge a stare worthy of his own. He turned his attention to Sophia and asked in a much gentler tone. "Are you alright my child?"

Sophia couldn't seem to find her voice so all she managed was a small nod.

"Very well," The archdeacon agreed before turning his attention back to Frollo. "They are under the protection of the Church, Your Honor. Your power stops before those doors."

Frollo continued to glare at him, "Then the moment they step outside those doors, they are _mine_."

The archdeacon said nothing, but remained strong in his stance and gave no indication of faltering in face. Seeing as Frollo was not going to be able to bait the deacon, he raised a thin arm and made a motion of dismissal. The guards who stood at the ready, obeyed and began to file out of Notre Dame, Phoebus bringing up the rear. He flashed them a triumphant smile before turning and disappearing down the stone steps. Esmeralda's white goat suddenly darted ahead and began butting his horned head against several of the guards backsides, bleating in triumph as he did so. Sophia couldn't help but giggle at the sight, it was way too funny.

"You have chosen a magnificent prison, but it is a prison nonetheless." The judge declared before turning his back and marching after his soldiers.

As the tail of Frollo's robe vanished behind the closing door, both Esmeralda and the young redhead bust into full laughter. The white goat came up to the two girls and circled them, leaping and jumping about as if sharing in their merriment. But, of course, it was not to last. The full impact of their predicament finally hit Sophia and hit her hard. They could not leave! They were trapped!

Apparently, she was not the only one to come to this conclusion. Almost simultaneously, Esmeralda's face broke out first in realization, then in sheer horror. Their eyes met for a moment, sky blue gazing up into bright emerald, before the young gypsy bolted for the door only to be met with a pair of guards. Out of rage and frustration, she slammed the door in their faces with a loud bang before sliding down the aged surface and burying her head in her knees. She felt her heart break at the sight. Gypsies were free spirited. They weren't meant to be caged or tied down in one place.

Sophia strode over and knelt in front of her, placing a comforting hand on one of her tanned hands. "Don't worry Esmeralda. Frollo's wrong if he thinks this will trap us. We'll get out of this, you'll see."

The ebony haired woman raised her head and smiled a sad sort of smile; it was still a bad predicament to be in.

"You may wish to exercise caution," The archdeacon advised, turning away from them and going over to a small alcove were he began relighting candles. "The two of you created quite a stir."

Esmeralda frown at his words, taking them as rather offensive. "You saw what he did out there!Allowing the crowd to humiliate and torture that poor creature! It's not his fault he is the way he is!"

"Calm yourself child," The deacon soothed, his tone still smooth and gentle. "I meant no offense. However, it would be unwise to arose Judge Frollo's anger further."

Esmeralda just shook her head, "I just thought, if someone tried to stop it-"

She trailed off, uncertain whether or not to finish her train of thought. Sophia sighed, she understood perfectly of how the gypsy was feeling. She herself was feeling the exact same thing.

"That maybe, it would make a difference?" Offered the young redhead, who crossed her arms and leaned backwards against a pillar. "Yeah, that's what I thought too, but it only seemed to make matters worse."

The Archdeacon shot her a strange look before turning back to his candles. "You can't right all the wrongs of the world, Sophia. Try as you might, you will only succeed in exhausting yourself and those around you. It takes more than just one person to change a concept."

"Well," Esmeralda said bitterly as she lifted herself off the cold tile floor. "No one out there is going to help us, that's for sure." She jabbed a thumb at the aged door behind her and shook her head in both anger and hopelessness. "No one cares about outcasts, or helps them for that matter."

"Then perhaps," Hinted the archdeacon as he finished the candles. "You will find that aid, in here."

He reached over and clapped a comforting hand on each girl's shoulder before heading down an aisle and into a another chamber. Sophia shook her head. She just didn't understand his underlying meanings at all. As much faith as she had in the Lord, she wasn't sure if that was what he meant. Esmeralda gave her a questioning look, silently asking her for an answer but she just shrugged her shoulders. She didn't have a clue either.

The gypsy sighed in response, "Well, how does that help us get out of here? All the entrances are blocked."

Again Sophia didn't have an answer for her new friend, "I-"

_CLANG!_

Both women whirled about towards the source of the clatter. They found Quasi standing over a life size candlestick holder, laying on its side, looking quite distraught at making such a commotion.

"Oh!" He buried his face in his hands as parishioners shouted scoldings and jibes at him.

"Quasi," It escaped Sophia as a whisper, who was surprised to see that her friend had followed them from his hiding spot.

Unable to take the scoldings and harsh words, Quasimodo turned on his heel and fled clumsily up the spiral, stone staircase to the upper levels.

"Wait!"

Esmeralda bolted after him, leaving Sophia stunned that the gypsy was actually going _towards_ her friend. Then, upon realizing she was the one being left behind, gave chase after her. After all, she couldn't leave this strange woman alone with her friend; he was frightened enough already without having her chase him down. With Esmeralda having a head start, it made it all the more difficult for the young redhead to catch up. The gypsy had a lean figure with long legs while Sophia was slightly more solid and was quite short. By the time she reached the top of the second staircase, Esmeralda was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh dash it all!" It was all Sophia dared to say before breaking out into another run.

She pushed her legs a bit farther and prayed to the Lord Almighty that Esmeralda wouldn't try to force Quasi to come out of hiding when she reached the bell tower. He never did like coming out when someone new stumbled into the tower. Some people taunted him, some tried to win him over with sweets, but their objection was all the same: catch a glimpse of the Hunchback. To be able to say to someone that you looked the monster in the eyes and lived to tell about it was a great achievement. A dare that most boys at the ripe age of twelve would undertake. It was some rite to being a man. What foolishness!

As Sophia crossed the bridge she was beginning to feel the affects that the run placed on her. Her breath was coming in fast and sharp, her lungs screamed for air, and her heart was pounding so fast she was sure it was going to give out on her. Hadn't she ran enough today in the first place? Apparently, not enough by the way today was turning out. As she finally reached the tower door, she grasped the handle and threw it open, letting it go wide and bash against the tower wall. She wasn't in the mood to be politely invited in.

"Q-Quasi!" She gasped, stumbling over her feet and nearly falling over.

She reached out a hand to take hold of anything that would help stabilize her and what she caught, greatly surprised her. It was the top of Hugo the Gargoyle's head who, she could have sworn, was supposed to be up several platforms, next to Quasi's worktable. In fact, Laverne and Victor were standing right behind him! They certainly had the habit of being misplaced about the tower, that was for sure.

She shook her head, "I . . (gasp) . . don't suppose . . (gasp) . . you know where . . (wheeze) . . she went?"

She ducked her head in order to force air into her lungs, taking a few minutes to calm her heart and get in a good breath. When she looked up however, something completely unnerved her to the point of thinking she had officially lost her mind. Laverne's arm, which Sophia could have sworn had been by the gargoyle's side, was now pointing in the direction of the wooden staircase that lead up to Quasi's living quarters.

"Um," She paused, not quite sure what to make of this new development. "Thanks. I guess?"

She reached over and lightly patted the female gargoyle on the head before ascending the wooden staircase in pursuit of Esmeralda and her dearest friend. It was when she finished climbing up the single poled ladder that she heard them. Voices coming from high above her. She looked up just in time to see Quasi helping Esmeralda up the next set of ladders that led to the heavy iron bells that he so dearly loved. He didn't show the to just anyone, but then again, he'd never really had anyone to show them _to_. Sophia felt her heart tighten as if it were in a vice.

"These," Quasi had swung himself up onto a beam and began excitedly pointing out a series of bells that she knew to be the Triplets. "Are Jean-Marie, Ann-Marie, and Louise-Marie!"

He swung from beam to beam, brimming with excitement and a joy Sophia had never seen before. He looked like he was showing off! This new side of him startled her! He was never _this_ hyperactive when she was around him. In fact, she had never seen him hyperactive at all! She stood there below them, gazing up at how Esmeralda moved around and explored _his_ world with awe and fascination. A world that only Sophia had known. Her heart plummeted again. She wanted to climb up there and stand with him and let Esmeralda know that she was here _first_! She was the one who knew him best! She was the one who held him when things got too hard! She was the one . . .

_'What is WRONG with me?!' _The young redhead screamed inwardly at herself for thinking such selfish and self-centered thoughts.

This was no way to be acting! Quasimodo was not her's! He didn't belong to her! He was a human being! Why was she feeling such jealousy? Why was she feeling so hurt that Esmeralda was seeing his world. His life! She should be happy! He was making a new friend! He was being sociable! He was coming out of his shell and allowing himself joy! So why?! Why was she so angry at the gypsy?!

"And what's this one?"

Esmeralda's voice drifted downward to where Sophia now sat huddled under one of the support beams. She almost didn't dare to look up. She didn't want to see the way his face lit up around the ebony haired woman. She didn't want to see the new light that had entered his eyes when Esmeralda looked at him. She just didn't want to watch they way they acted towards each other anymore! Her heart felt like it was being torn in two!

"It's so small!" Esmeralda's voice came again, but this time it was different. Something had changed in her tone; something more than awe. "Or, smaller. It's . . . beautiful."

Sophia unfolded herself enough to peer up between a set of beams and see that Quasi and Esmeralda were gathered around . . .

"Little Sophia."

Quasi's musical tone had lost all its hyperactivity and became the calm, soothing, bellish tone that he always used when she was in the room. When he was talking to _her_. Sophia watched in astonishment as he gingerly reached out and caressed the old bell with such care, such gentleness; almost as if he feared it would break under his touch. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he looked upon the eldest bell that Sophia couldn't place. It was another look she hadn't seen before and yet, this one was so much different than the looks he gave Esmeralda.

"Her name is Little Sophia. This," he paused for a moment, as if soaking in something that was go great it just seemed to take over him. "This is _her_ bell."

**Okay, so was it as bad as I thought it was or worse? There are still some things I don't really like about it but I think its doable. Now, you're not gonna see much POV of Esme, Frollo, or Phoebus if any at all. Why you may ask? Because this tale is told through the eyes of Quasi and Sophia. That's the way I've intended for this story to play out so some scenes in the movie arn't gonna be here.**

**Like Frollo searching for Esme or Esme hiding in the court of miracles (though that isn't really shown but whatever). The scene with the Millar and his family will be there because . . . well I can't tell you e_verything_! I'm still bouncing around the idea of having Frollo sing Hellfire. I really want to do it but I still want to stay with Quasi and Sophia because that's where the main focus is. Okay, I've been ranting too long!**

**Good Night everyone! As always, let me know what you think!**


	13. Conflicting Emotions

**Long chapter this time my friends! I mean LONG! Just over 4,000 words! I'm trying to write longer chapters to get through some scenes that usually take a while without rushing them too much. I hope this chapter appeals to everyone. There is more soft moments between Quasi and Sophia and I've explored more on why Esmeralda excepts Quasi as he is. The movie idea was great, but I think my idea is even better! Anyway, on with the show!**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Conflicting Emotions**

The bells were always cool under his touch, a touch however, every bell in the tower knew and recognized. It was gentle and light, always calming them after a hard days work. Always sure and steady when he took their long tails in his hands and allowed his strength to give them voice. He was their friend and caretaker. He was their father, loving but stern at times. He knew just what to say to encourage them, to let them sing as loudly and as carefree as they wanted. He polished them several times a week, encouraging them that they were the most beautiful bells in all of Paris and that no other bell tower in France could match them.

He loved them all and they loved him. For without him, they would remain silent for all eternity and then no one would hear them sing. He had his favorites, this they knew and understood but that did not mean he did not spend his time equally with all the rest. No, he made sure that his attention was given to every bell in the tower. His love and care was not reserved for just his favorites, he gave each one just what they needed every day. Even if sometimes that attention was due because one of them was too tired to sing. He did not scold them, just encouraged them gradually until they gave up on sleep entirely, gave in to his gentle strength and began their song.

There were days when their father was not happy. He would be sluggish in the morning, something that just was not him. He loved mornings because he loved them! They were always there to greet him as the sun came over the horizon and burst through the slits in their tower home and threw light off them. They shined like stars then. Morning stars. Still, there were days when their father needed their voices to reassure him and like when they needed love and encouragement, so too did he. And so they would lift their voices softly, ever so softly, just for him. They loved him just as he loved them. That would never change.

Little Sophia knew this to be true.

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He ran a hand over the aged surface of Little Sophia's bronze skin; it felt cool at first, then warmed with a life he knew dwelled deep within the small bell. He could feel her excitement strongly vibrating at having her friend caressing her as if she was the one thing he loved above all else. Quasi knew the feelings and emotions of the bells better than people, save for three. He was very in tune with Frollo's because he was his master and his father of sorts. He knew the archdeacon's because he was always around to help him peruse knowledge and wisdom. And of course, he knew Sophia's best of all.

"Who's bell?"

Quasi have a start, he had forgotten he had a new visitor with him. Esmeralda gave him a worried look at seeing how startled he was but he righted himself. He returned his gaze the Little Sophia and a small sigh left his lips. It seemed as if the human Sophia and the bell Sophia had some sort of connection. For some reason, he thought he could sense the human Sophia within Little Sophia. Why was that?

"A friend's," Quasi replied, still looking at the bell in front of him. "Someone . . special."

"I see," Esmeralda stepped around the bell, taking it in with great detail and interest. "It . . looks like her. In a sense anyway."

Surprise shot through him like a lightning bolt and he withdrew he hand from the bell's surface. It most certainly was not something he expected from the ebony haired woman.

"W-what?" He stammered, trying to make sense of her words.

"The bell," Esmeralda gestured to Little Sophia as if it was obvious. "Little Sophia was it? It resembles the girl from before. I think Sophia was her name."

Upon remembering that Esmeralda and the young redhead were more acquainted with each other than he was, Quasi answered, "Yes, her name is Sophia."

Esmeralda seemed intrigued by something and tapped her chin thoughtfully as she looked upon the old bell. "So the name of the bell is the same as the girl, interesting indeed." Then whispered to no one in particular, "They are very similar."

He barely heard the last sentence, but was curious to why she would make such an observation, "How do you mean?"

How could Little Sophia and Sophia be similar? The only similarity he saw was their namesake and maybe possibly their small size. Though, Little Sophia was still quite large. Her width was around two feet and her height had to be at least five. Sophia was small too, just barely over four feet and a half; this made her even smaller when compared to Little Sophia.

"Well," Began Esmeralda, circling the bronze bell and observing as much detail as possible. "Size for one. This is the smallest bell in the tower, correct?"

Quasi nodded and waited for her to continue with her observations.

"Exactly, so size would be one of the characteristics they share." She thought for a moment then added, "Another would be the color."

"The color?" Now he was really curious.

He leaned forward to inspect Little Sophia's coloration, which, had been mostly worn away by age and use. No matter how many times he polished and scrubbed, the bell's true color would never shine. She was so old and worn out that her bronze hue had almost faded away entirely. Almost. In some places Little Sophia's bronze color still stood out, like within the mouth but higher above the strike point. The waist and lip of the bell too had some of its original color but not much. But now, on closer examination, Quasi saw what Esmeralda was talking about.

"Its the same," He breathed, shocked that he had never made the connection before. "Its the same."

Little Sophia's true color was an almost exact match to Sophia's copper locks! Quasi blinked owlishly at the bell. How many times had he polished the bell and never noticed? After all these years of cleaning and ringing and caring for the small bell, could he had possibly missed the color and the hair that nearly matched it perfectly? It was enough to make him wonder what else had he missed about the two Sophia's? What else was so strikingly similar that he hadn't seen?

"What else do you see?" Quasi gazed up at Esmeralda, a pleading look in his sky blue eyes.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to see more of what made the two so alike. He had not been able to before, but now, he wanted to see!

Esmeralda just shook her head in a rather sad way, "I don't see much else, my friend. I don't know her as well as you do." Her expression became solemn and yet, there was a hint of knowing in her eyes. "You have known these two for far longer than I. Anything I have already told you is as far as my knowledge takes me."

Quasi's face fell in disappointment. No! That couldn't be all she knew! She had to know more! She had to make him see! He wanted to see! He needed her to show him, to help him see more of them!

"But-!" He protested, looking from her to Little Sophia and back again. "You-!"

Esmeralda leaned over and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, giving him a rather sad smile. "My friend, it is _you_ who must find the rest. Not me. I am not meant to see all that is within this bell or the girl. That lies with you. Only you."

"I can't!" He protested, ringing his hands in distraught.

Desperation filled him, he couldn't find what it was that connected them! He didn't have the ability! If he couldn't see before, why did she think he could see it now? He needed her to see for him! He needed her to show him what else he had missed about the bell and his friend!

"Yes," Insisted Esmeralda, her emerald eyes sparking with something he couldn't place. "You can."

"Ah-hem."

Almost immediately, the gypsy's hand was gone and she was no longer bending down towards him. Quasi spun around to face the source of the sound and there, standing at the top of the ladder, was Sophia. Her arms were crossed firmly in front of her, her stance was stiff and tense, but it was the expression on her normally bright smiling face that caused him the most discomfort. Sophia looked . . displeased. Her face was set in a grim expression, her lips a straight line that was neither frowning yet not smiling. The cheek that his master had struck was a blazing fiery red, the skin cut but thankfully, no longer bleeding. Her already pale skin seemed a shade paler, making her dark red hair and light brown freckles stand out almost violently against her skin.

She looked down right ill!

"Am I interrupting?"

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all! Esmeralda had been standing to close to Quasi for Sophia's taste and she didn't approve of it. She tried to force down the feelings of jealousy, but they just kept coming back up! She hadn't heard what they were talking about because she had gone back down the stairs to get some fresh air and to get rid of the burning feeling in her stomach. When she came back however, she had seen just how close the two of them were standing and reacted without fully realizing what she was doing.

Now here she was, standing before them and glaring as if they'd done something they shouldn't have. Suddenly, Sophia's anger and jealousy faded away entirely only to be replaced with an icy cold chill that preceded to run up and down her spine. She felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head! Again, what was _wrong_ with her?!

"Quasi, I-"

She felt dizzy, so very dizzy. The floor began to feel unsteady beneath her feet and her legs turned to mush. She couldn't keep her balance. Sophia raised a now shaking hand to her brow, feeling beads of sweat collect there and begin their decent down her temple. Something wasn't right. She felt hot, too hot. Unbearably hot!

"Soph-"

She saw Quasi's lips move but couldn't hear his voice. Black spots suddenly began to dance in her vision, threatening to blind her. Her whole body didn't have the strength to hold her up anymore and her knees gave out before she could stop herself. She pitched forward and collapsed in a heap, her breathing coming in fast and hard. She couldn't get a good breath in! The last thing she saw before the spots took over her sight completely was Quasi kneeling over her and lifting her off the wooden floor. Then, she slipped into sleep.

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

"Sophia!"

Quasi, with speed he didn't even know he even possessed, rushed forward just as the small redhead swayed precariously and collapsed in a heap on the wooden floor of the platform. Hard. He heard her head smack sharply against the wood, creating a sickening _thud_. He inwardly cringed, but placed it aside when she didn't get up on her own. He knelt down beside her, her name still on his lips.

"Sophia? Sophia?!"

He watched in growing horror as the small woman's light blue eyes flickered, then closed. Her breathing, which had been coming in such rapid gasps, slowed to an all most barely noticeable pace and her face paled another shade. He was so absorbed in watching Sophia's rapidly declining health he didn't notice Esmeralda come up on his left. Forgetting the gypsy woman completely, Quasi lifted his friend into his strong arms and climbed hurriedly down the ladder to his living platform below.

Skipping the last several rungs, he jumped on the floor, careful not to jostle the limp figure in his hold, and made for his tent. Esmeralda, who had not been a step behind, rushed forward to open the entrance flap for him. He silently nodded his head at her in appreciation then hurried inside. He laid her gently on his bed, hoping that a softer surface would help her. Once he had her settled, Quasi's emotions began to catch up to him and fell to his knees beside the low bed. A small, choked sob escaped him. He didn't know what to do! All the knowledge he had gained from the archdeacon's book suddenly fled him, his mind drawing a large, white blank. Panic rose up his throat, tightening it in a painful strangle.

"Quasi, you _must_ stay calm." The gypsy's voice sounded far away and yet, there was a hint of steel that told him that he must listen.

He couldn't tare his gaze away from Sophia's now ashen face. A haze of guilt and fear engulfed him as he looked upon the still form of the young woman. She looked so vulnerable, so tiny! As if just merely touching her would cause her to shatter. Her wounded cheek stood out against the pale skin and his gaze wandered to the bandage on her collarbone, both wounds inflicted upon her because she stepped in harms way for him.

Why did he flee from her down in the sanctuary? Why hadn't he stayed and made sure she was alright? Did she chase him all the way back to the tower? Sophia was not a sprinter, nor did she have speed on her side. She always pushed herself, never knowing when to quit even when he body told her so. She had already winded herself once today, was she trying for two? Why wasn't he helping her?! Why couldn't he move?!

Esmeralda knelt down on the other side of the bed, a hand resting on Sophia's forehead. She began to feel the redhead's arms as well, looking for fever and any sight of moisture. When she had finished, she gave a sigh of relief and raised her head to met his panic filled face.

"Quasi, listen to me," She coaxed, trying to get his attention. It was better said than done because he still had not reacted to her at all. "Sophia is fine. Do you understand? She is _fine_."

With such painstakingly slowness, the young hunchback raised his eyes to the gypsy. In the dim light, Esmeralda could see just how much color he too had lost. This little incident had clearly shaken him to the core.

"H-how is this . . _fine!_" It came out sharper than he meant it to and the ebony haired woman flinched away in both hurt and surprise.

She hardened her expression in response to his aggression and replied in a clipped tone, "Because her health is not in danger. She merely collapsed because her body became too taxed from stress. She will wake up in an hour or so perfectly fine again."

_Stress?_ Stress had caused _this_?! Quasi returned his attention back to the woman lying on his bed. Already it seemed, some of her normal color had returned. Her skin had a slightly more healthy sheen about it; even her breathing had returned to its normal rhythm. He tentatively reached out to grasp her hand in his own, truly in awe in how tiny it was. Her hand, fully splayed, was still no bigger than his palm. The same as it was ten years ago when she first held his rather large, clumsy one. Nothing had changed and yet, it seemed that everything had. Nothing was simple anymore.

Not even their friendship.

"Thank you," He whispered hoarsely across to the gypsy.

"You are welcome." Esmeralda too looked over at the young redhead who was now sleeping peacefully. "She's truly remarkable. I have never known a Parisian to stand up to a crowd as large as that. You must be very special to her."

His head came up sharply, thoroughly astonished by her words. Of course, he knew already that Sophia was remarkable. That was made clear the day he met her when she first stepped into that pool of sunlight so he wouldn't be afraid. What shocked him was that he could ever be _special_ to the young redhead! How could he mean anything of importance to someone like her? Someone who deserved to live in the company of normal people? People who were not confined to a tower for the rest of their lives? People who could move about their daily lives without causing women to faint or children to cry just at the mere sight of them?

Was he really worth the amount of risk Sophia had taken today? Was he worth her blood that had been shed? Not once, but twice?! Her friends and family had been watching. What if she could no longer show her face in society because of the choices she had made today? What life had he now condemned her to?! How could he possibly be worth that?!

"Ng . . . Quasi . ."

He watched in great surprise as Sophia stirred in her sleep, yet did not wake. Even more shocked that she had spoken his name in her sleep! And with such . . such tenderness! Such care! Quasi felt his heart swell and flutter at hearing her voice speak his name. The feeble muscle within his chest always reacted strangely whenever she spoke his name. It was a secret joy of his that he kept only to himself. He gave her hand a gentle, reaffirming squeeze as if to convey to her that she was safe and he was here.

" . . . don't . . leave . . ."

Quasi felt his heart nearly stop at the sheer amount of _fear_ in her sleep filled voice! She was frightened he would leave her! That he would abandon her to what ever fears that lay just beneath the realm of sleep! He didn't know what to do! He had never been asked that of anyone before! No one, save for her, had ever wanted comfort and reassurance from him. Now, she was asking him not to leave her alone while she slept. Which, now that he thought about it, he had never seen before. She looked . . . beautiful. Well, now that color had returned to her completion and she was no longer under the effects of stress. She looked calm, at peace, and he would not leave her until she awoke from slumber. He would be here, just for her.

"Don't worry," He carefully leaned over and whispered softly in the shell of her ear. "I won't leave you Sophia. I'll always be here."

. . . . .

_**Half an hour later . . .**_

After reassuring Quasi several times that Sophia would be fine on her own for a little while, Esmeralda finally convinced him to get so fresh air with her. Along the way to the top of the tower, he showed her the rest of the bells and a few of the birds nests he made. Once they reached the top, they settled down against the raised roof and watched the sun set over the horizon. Ruby reds, rose pinks, golden yellows, and vibrant oranges danced and flickered about the clouds, creating an a ray of beauty like none the gypsy had ever seen.

"Amazing," The ebony haired woman breathed, awe spreading across her face as she gazed out into the air. "I bet the king of France doesn't have a view like this."

"No," Quasi agreed with a small shake of his head. The sunset always made him feel a sense of wonderful and beauty. He felt so lucky as be able to see it from this vantage point. "I do not think he does."

"I could stay up here for the rest of my life," Sighed Esmeralda happily, her dark emerald eyes softening in the fading light.

Quasi looked over at her in slight surprise, but he understood completely. "You could you know." Then he added as an afterthought, "Stay, I mean."

She shook her head slowly and began tracing unseen patterns into the stonework with one finger, "No, I can't. Gypsies don't do well behind stone walls."

He cringed at the quote made by his master. He wished he hadn't gone to the festival, then Sophia wouldn't be bedridden, Esmeralda wouldn't be trapped, and Frollo would have never have tried to arrest them. Then no harm would have come to any of them. However, the events that led them to this moment _did_ happen. There was no changing the past once it's been written.

"You are not like the others," He began, shifting his position so he was now facing her profile. "They are . ." He paused, not sure if voicing his master's opinion at this time was beneficial.

"Evil?" Esmeralda turned her head and looked at him with sad eyes. By now the light had faded and the stars were begins to twinkle above them. "Whoever gave you such an idea?"

Quasi bowed his head in shame; this wasn't turning out the way he had hoped. "My master . . Frollo. He . . he took me in when I was found abandoned on the steps of the cathedral. No one else would have a monster like me."

She shook her head in disbelief and anger, "How could someone as cruel and misguided raise someone like you? I suppose he told you were a monster as well?"

"Look at me," He gestured to himself. "What else could I possibly be?"

Esmeralda looked appalled at first then her expression changed to sadness. "For one, someone who has a good heart. You could have killed that soldier in the square you know."

Quasi's eyes widen in horror and he suddenly felt the urge to flee from the woman entirely. Fear began to overtake him for the fourth time that day. What would this woman think of him now? Would she believe him to be the monster he had always believed himself to be?

"You _saw_ that?" It escaped him as a horrified whisper.

The gypsy nodded slowly in return. "Yes, but you did not kill him. You could have and you certainly had just cause for doing so," She paused. "I do not know what I would have done if someone tried to kill someone I cared about. I don't know what my own reaction would be."

This was not an answer Quasi had been expecting from the gypsy woman. He expected anger or fear, not understanding! She was rationalizing why he almost killed a man! She understood why he had felt the way he did and acted accordingly to his emotions! She understood and yet, did not think ill of him! She was not afraid of him! She didn't think he was a monster! That was all he needed as a plan began to form in his mind. She had opened her heart and mind to him, had accepted him for the choices and actions he made. Now, he was going to to the same. Plus, she helped Sophia! He had to do something in return for her kindness.

He stood up and extended a hand to Esmeralda, "You helped us. Now, let me help you."

"How?" She asked confused, not sure what he was talking about but she took the hand anyway.

"I can get you out of the cathedral," He explained further, helping her to her feet and over to the railing. "Trust me?"

Esmeralda nodded, her emerald green eyes set in raw determination. "What do we have to do?"

**HAHA! I thought my idea for why Esmeralda finally excepts Quasi was better! How much better can it get then accepting someone who almost killed someone who was trying to kill another someone! Savy? I mean, almost killing someone is big! And to except the fact he was willing to do so because Sophia was threatened just makes it better! **

**Now, about Sophia passing out and being what some may call "wimpy" . . .**

**First of all, the whole incident with the festival and Quasi being tortured was bad enough! Then she stands up to Frollo for the first time, then some guard holds a knife to her throat, then Quasi almost kills said guard, then she saves Esmeralda from Frollo and stands up to him a SECOND time (who by the way, bitch slaps her!), then she's almost arrested, and then to TOP IT ALL OFF . . .**

**People, she just saw the love of her life getting a bit too close to Esmeralda, who she feels extremly jealous over, and it all was just too much!**

**I mean really, who wouldn't pass out from that kind of stress huh?! I think I was being perfectly reasonable with going down that road with her. Gee, I would pass out if all that happened to me! I mean, just having a knife held to MY throat would be enough!**

**Okay, so with all that ranting out of the way, what you think? Good, bad, terrible, brilliant? Please leave me a review in the box below and have a great day! See you next time readers!**


	14. Heaven's Light

**Alright everyone, fair warning! You're gonna need some tissues for this one. Hellfire will be the next chapter if anyone's wondering. I think I did pretty good on this one but please let me know! Leave me a review in the box below and I'll have Hellfire up as soon as possible. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Heaven's Light**

_**Third Person **_

_**Esmeralda's POV**_

"Are you sure about this?" Esmeralda peered over the railing worriedly.

She could see several groups of guards posted at the three front entrances to the grand cathedral with each group containing three soldiers. All nine men carried brightly lit torches. She was concerned that his plan wouldn't work. What if they looked up? What if some piece of stonework gave way and hit one of them? Was his plan even possible in the first place?

"Sure," He replied simply. He _sounded_ confident enough. "I carry you. You carry him. Though, you may want to cover his eyes as he may panic if he sees the height."

Her eyes flickered to her loyal companion Djali, who looked back up at her as if to say 'No way'. She sighed, he hated being blindfolded. However, she didn't want him panicking as they climbed down. He might kick out and hurt one of them unintentionally if they didn't take necessary precautions.

She knelt down to the goat's level and scratched a patch of fur between his horns. "I'm sorry my friend, but it is for our safety as well as yours."

He bleated at her in protest before turning his head away. The look he gave her from the corner of his eye made her want to laugh. He was pouting!

"Believe me Djali," She laughed kindheartedly. "I do not like this anymore than you do. However, if we are to escape, we must have trust in our new friend here."

The goat seemed to give a sigh of submission before closing its brown eyes. Esmeralda took it as sign of permission, took out a purple scrape of cloth from her blouse, and tied it around Djali's face. Once the cloth was firmly in place, she scoped him up in her arms and gave Quasi a curt nod.

"Let us be off then."

He nodded back to her and gently took her in his large arms before swinging himself effortlessly over the side. Esmeralda felt her heart clench as she looked over his shoulder at the ground below which seemed to be coming closer. Quasi shifted her so she was now slung over his shoulder. He did this so he could have the use of both his hands.

"You may not want to look down."

That was the one and only warning he gave her before swinging to the parapet three feet away. And that was all the warning she needed. Esmeralda closed her eyes tight as Quasi began a fast paced decent down the side of the tower before jumping the rest of the way down to the roof of the sanctuary. In all honesty, she kept her eyes closed through the whole experience. She focused so much on just breathing that when they suddenly stopped, she didn't dare let go of the back of his tunic.

"It's alright," Came his twinkling voice. "You can open your eyes now."

It took all of her willpower to do so, but when she did, found she was sitting in a small alcove of one of the saints that was carved into the side of Notre Dame. Not far off to her left was a rope long enough to carry her to the cobblestone below. She slowly lowered herself from his hold and leaned against the statue for support.

"Thank you," She breathed, trying to sound not as shaken as she knew she did.

"You are welcome." He replied, appearing not to be phased in the slightest. "I didn't scare you did I."

Esmeralda shook her head, still trying to get her stomach righted. "Not at all."

Djali bleated out a sound of protest as she undid the blindfold and wormed his way out of the young gypsy's arms. His hooves clacked against the stone when he landed, sending a slight echo across the square.

"Shh, Djali!" Esmeralda knelt down to the goat's level and took his furry face in her hands. "We must be silent, understand?"

Unfortunately, the sound had alerted a pair of guards several feet away and thus began to make their way toward the the two hideaways.

"Quick!" Quasi whispered to her intently. "Behind the statue."

Esmeralda took hold of her white furred companion and darted behind the stone figure, praying that it would be large enough to hide all three of them. As the two guards passed, whatever they had been discussing at the other end of the square had continued to the point of becoming heated.

"Ah told ya," Insisted the taller one. "The lil' one seemed ta _know_ 'im."

"And I'm telling _you_," The shorter one replied. "You're imagining it! Why would someone like her know something like _that?!_"

"Ah don' know," Confessed the tall one. "Ah could've sworn she was tryin' ta _protect_ it."

The shorter man just shook his head as he swung his torch around to look for any sign of trouble. "I'm telling you, you don't know what you saw. Anyway, he almost killed you! You're lucky he let you keep that head of yours! Stop all this thinking and just keep your mind on the orders."

"Tha's the thin'," The taller man argued. "'E tried ta take me bloomin' head off! Ov'er a lil' girl! Like 'e knew 'er or somethin'."

"Does it matter?!" The shorter one seemed to be losing his patience with the other guard. "The girl's long gone and that thing isn't gonna let you into the tower to find out! Just focus on finding the gypsy girl and leave it be! Just be thankful he didn't kill you!"

"Well, Ah aim ta find out! Tha' girl knows somethin'," The taller man grimaced. "Maybe somethin' 'bout the gypsy too."

"I've had just about enough of this nonsense!" The shorter guard turned on his heel and poked the taller man in the chest. "Listen here and listen good, Frollo only cares about the gypsy. He wants the other girl too, but the gypsy is our main target. Frankly, I don't give a damn about the other one but we have to keep an eye out anyway. Now get this foolish thinking out of your head and focus!"

The taller man reached over and pried the other man's finger away. He looked about for a moment, then stated coldly, "There's nothin 'ere. Let's go."

"Come on ya great lug," The shorter man clapped a hand to the other's forearm and the two of them headed down an alley.

Once Esmeralda was sure they were gone, she stepped out from behind the statue.

"I must go," She picked up Djali and slung the goat over her shoulder like he was a sack of breading. "Tell Sophia, she must be careful. If what those guards said is true, then they too are looking for her."

"I will," Quasi, who too had come out from hiding, nodded in agreement then paled considerably. "The taller man was the one I . . ."

"Quasimodo." Esmeralda stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You did not kill him. He is alive and breathing, though it is more than he deserves." She paused, then offered him a small smile, "You were protecting her; that is what truly matters. Could you honestly say that if you had not acted the way you did that Sophia would still be alive?"

He ducked his head away from her sight and began to ring his hands in nervousness. "No, I cannot."

"Then you acted correctly," She reasoned. "You were willing to take anothers life if it meant protecting someone who is close to your heart. Never lose sight of what is important Quasimodo."

"Again, thank you." He lifted his head and met her emerald gaze one last time.

"Be careful, my friend," Then she leaned over and placed a quick kiss upon his cheek. "Watch the shadows, you will find they house both friend and foe."

And then she turned, swung herself down the rope, and fled into the darkness of a nearby alley. Her destination? The Court of Miracles. Home.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

She _kissed_ him. She kissed _him_! A goofy sort of grin spread across his face and his bright, blue eyes sparkled with a light that outshone the stars that now hung in the inky blackness above Paris. He swung himself up and began the climb back to the bell tower. A new energy filled him, filled him with excitement and merriment that he had never felt before! Not even when he was around Sophia! This new feeling took over his entire being and suddenly he felt the urge to carve. Carve a new figure for his replication of Paris! He sighed softly as he reached out a hand to grasp the railing of the north tower but suddenly, someone had taken his hand and nearly hauled him over the side!

"I'm looking for Esmeralda and Sophia," A man in gold armor was leaning over him, his gloved hand clasped around his own. "Have you seen them?"

It was him! The soldier who turned Sophia and Esmeralda over to Frollo! The man who was responsible for their arrest in the first place! None of this would have come to pass if not for him! He was the one to blame! He was the one who had forced his friends into hiding like common criminals! And now, he was looking for them?! What he want with them?! To turn them over to his master?! Not if he had anything to do with it! He wasn't going to let this man lay harm to either woman! They were still protected by the Church and he was not going to let him take Sophia away! Not while she rested peacefully in the safety of his tower!

Quasi released a low warning growl from deep in his throat before lunging at the soldier and swinging wide. His giant sized fist almost hit the man squarely in the jaw however, the captain had better reflexes than he anticipated and missed by an inch. The man stumbled backwards to further avoid his blows, but he was relentless in his attack. Sophia and Esmeralda's lives depended on him and he'd be damned to the seventh layer of hell if he failed.

"Wait!" The man held out his arms in peace, trying to placate him while dodging another swing. "Easy friend!"

"_I am no friend of yours!_" Quasi snarled back at him as new rage consumed him. "Get. _Out_."

This time, one of his fists connected and when it did, the sheer force of the blow sent the now flailing soldier down the flight of stairs he had cornered him by. Amazingly, the man was able to regain control of his momentum and stop his rapid decent before any serious injury came to him. As he struggled to his feet, the man winced and grabbed his side in pain. It appeared to Quasi that he had bruised a rib or two.

"Ga!" The man gritted his teeth to prevent further exclamation of injury. "You have quite a right hook you know."

Quasi stood at the top of the steps, not at all phased by the man's apparent injury or his words. He was not going to be fooled by appearances or flattery. For all he knew, it was all a ruse.

"You have no power here!" He barked angrily as he took a torch from its holder and began to descend towards the golden clad soldier. "Sanctuary!"

"Persistent are we?" The man asked rhetorically, straightening himself to his full height. Though, with some difficulty. "I suppose there isn't a chance to talk this over?"

Quasi halted just a few steps above the man, startled by his words. Talk? Why would he want to talk? Did he think he would betray the ones who had done so much for him? Did this man honestly think that he could _buy_ his loyalty? NO! He would have to do better than speak pretty words and offer simple pleasantries before he could trust him.

"Why?" He asked curtly, not putting the torch away.

Instead, he thrust it in the man's face in the hopes of scaring him off. It did not work. The soldier just stood there with his face inches away from the burning flames, not batting an eye. The man eyed the torch for a moment, as if trying to decide to try to take it away from him or simply slice it in half with the sword that currently hung from his belt. Surprisingly to Quasi, he did neither. He just stood there taking the heat and raised his hands once more in peace.

"Because I mean them no harm." He stated slowly, not taking his eyes from the flames that were close enough to catch the hairs on his chin ablaze. "I only tried to save their lives, however," He paused. "I believe I did more harm than good in Sophia's case."

At the man's last words, Quasi felt his anger resurface with newly revived rage. "What do you mean _harm?!_ What have you _done_ to her?!"

"Nothing physical if that's what you're referring to," The man countered simply. "I only meant that she can't just go walking around in public now that Frollo's after her."

"And who is to blame for that?!" Quasi bellowed, pulling the torch away only to take the front of the man's tunic in his fist and lift him a half foot off the stone steps. "You did this to them! You trapped them here!"

"I had no choice!" The man shouted back, his face centimeters away from his own; hazel orbs blazing in anger. "It was either that or let Frollo take them! I thought a long life in a cathedral would be better than a short stay in a dungeon!"

Then he added quietly, his eyes softening. "Do you really believe I wanted that? The only thing those girls are guilty of is having hearts."

It was as if someone had poured cold water over his fiery rage. His eyes became gentle again and his breathing, which had been coming in great gasps, evened out.

"I-I don't understand."

In truth he did not. Wasn't this man his master's Captain of the King's Archers? He could tell he was by the crest upon the center of his armor, an arrow shot diagonally through a four pointed crown. That was the right crest, but this man was so different from his master's other guards.

"I'm a man of standards you know." The man sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing, "I wasn't trained to harm the innocent. Killing is more or less an added bonus."

He shrugged as if he didn't care about the last bit, "I really rather not. It's a messy business, war. The only reason I'm not at the front now is because I'm the lucky bastard that was chosen as Frollo's new Captain. Not really the position I had in mind."

Again he shrugged.

Quasi was very confused. This man was Frollo's new Captain and yet, he went directly behind his back and slipped the girls out from his master's thumb. He was supposed to be evil, he was supposed to be on his master's side and yet, and yet he tried to save Sophia and Esmeralda! He was supposed to follow orders without question and yet he had no issues with doing things his own way!

"Even so," Quasi said carefully, his anger completely gone but not his caution. "I cannot allow you to remain here. They are under the protection of the Church. Your help is no longer needed."

The Captain frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that. I really hoped to see them before reporting in."

"I-," Quasi paused, unsure quite what to do. "I can give them a message. That is, if you wish."

The man's face brightened considerably. "Oh wonderful! Let's see, let's see . . ." He trailed off, trying to think of what he wanted his message to say. "I suppose I'll keep it simple. Tell Esmeralda, that she's lucky to have a friend such as yourself."

It took all of Quasi's willpower not to blush, both at the message and at the memory of Esmeralda placing a chaste kiss upon his right cheek.

"A-and for Sophia?" For some reason, the man's would-be message for her in particular made his heart clench in fear.

The man thought for a moment, his mouth twisting up in a rather odd looking quirk. "Tell her that she's very brave. From what I can gather, she's not your ordinary Parisian woman. A gypsy standing up for you most can understand seeing as both of you aren't exactly held in great light. But for someone of her class?" The Captain shook his head, "It's unheard of. Even if others didn't approve of the way Frollo handled the situation, they never would've actually _done_ something about it. Sophia, however, _did_."

Again he paused, then added sadly, "It takes a special kind of person to go up against society and do something so radical. It makes a statement. A statement that's going to cost her in the end."

Quasi frowned. In the end . . . he didn't want to think of what end it would be. If he had a choice, there would never be an end. He knew she was special, that she was brave. Someone would have to be stupid not to see it. There was a light within her that burned with such strength that he was sure she could do anything. She only had to will herself doing it.

"Oh!" The Captain suddenly exclaimed in excitement. "I suppose I should give you one too since I'm giving them out."

Quasi raised an eyebrow at him, "And what, pray tell, would your message to me say?"

The soldier smiled slyly. "If you put me down nicely, I'll tell you."

Quasi, who really didn't have any just cause to keep the man suspended in mid-air, did so. "Go on."

"You're very lucky," Was the man's reply.

"What?!" Quasi's whole body stiffened, shocked at the man's words, which he really didn't understand. Then asked cautiously, "Why?"

"To have a friend that would risk her life for yours."

Then the Captain turned and walked down the stairs, disappearing into the darkness and leaving Quasi to stunned for words.

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Ng. . . mmm."

Sophia stirred, but did not open her eyes. Her head _hurt_! What did she do? Hit it on a bell or something? Then her memory came back.

'_Oh.'_

Her head must have hit the floor when she collapsed. That would explain why it felt like a hammer was crushing her skull. She groaned. This was not turning out to be her day. Not her day at all. She lay there for a while, how long she did not know, but long enough for the pain in her head to reduce to a dull throb. At least it was tolerable now. Again she shifted but this time she was coherent enough to feel where exactly she was. She found she was laying on, and under, something soft. Soft and warm. The familiar feel of a mattress was now seeping into Sophia's mind. She was on a bed! Then she felt the presence of something soft under her head and realized it was a pillow! There was a thick, warm, woolen blanket tucked around her as well!

But, that didn't make any sense. The only bed in the tower was . . . .

Sophia's eyes snapped open in realization and sat up so quickly that the room began to spin. Feeling lightheaded, She placed her head on her blanket covered knees and focused on breathing. That was probably not the smartest move she could have made. Once she was certain the room was going to move again, she slowly raised her head and looked about the room. There was a lone candle burning on the side table next to her, throwing shadows and light about the tent. Save for the candle and what little furniture there was, it was empty.

Esmeralda and Quasi were gone! Sophia felt her heart sink. She had hoped he would be here when she woke up. Strangely enough, she thought she heard him talking to her while she slept. Maybe it was a dream though? That was it, it must have been all in her head. She sighed again, wishing that it really wasn't a dream.

"What good will come of wishing?" She whispered bitterly to herself. "Don't torture yourself so, Sophia."

The creaking of several beams echoed throughout the tower. Someone else was here! Sophia immediately stiffened, suddenly afraid that she was alone with another person. Then upon remembering that this was Quasi's _home_, scolded herself. Why in the world was she acting like a frightened rabbit? Her nerves were on end and her mind was playing tricks on her. She shook her head.

"Get a hold of yourself."

She took a deep breath. May as well get out of bed. She needed to get home or else her mother was going to lock her up in the house and never let her out again. Not to mention the scolding of a lifetime that was also awaiting her. Her mother was not going to be happy with that stunt she pulled in the square. Oh! Now the bell tower was looking like a really good place to spend the night! Deciding that it was probably in her best interest to go home and face whatever punishment came than staying here and making her mother worry any longer; Sophia carefully climbed out of bed. Before leaving the tent, she made the bed and fluffed the pillow. After all, it was the least she could do.

As she prepared to leave the tent, the sound of someone humming caught her attention. It sounded like Quasi! Quietly as Sophia could, she made her way out of the tent and towards the source of the tune. As she rounded part of the scaffolding, she hid behind one of the beams and watched in surreal fascination as Quasi leaned against the wall of the tower, carving a figure. As he did so, he hummed a song she had never heard before. After a moment or two, he looked down at the carving in his hand before turning to gaze out the slitted window that sat behind his worktable. Then, the beautiful tune he had been singing, turned into song.

"So many times out there,

I watched a happy pair,

Of lovers walking in the night."

Sophia stood transfixed by the sheer twinkling of his voice! It sounded so sad and yet, yet there was light! She gripped the beam tightly in her small hands, listening with all the strength her ears possessed, not wanting to miss a word or note of his song.

"They had a kind of glow around them,

It almost looked like Heaven's light."

Quasi turned away from the window, allowing himself to slip back into the darkness and shadows as if he didn't belong in the silvery moonlight.

"I knew I'd never know,

That warm and loving glow.

Though I might wish with all my might!"

Sophia felt as if someone had knocked the very breath out of her! Is that what he thought?! That he wasn't good enough for that light?! That he didn't deserve to have someone love him or care for him?! How could he think such a thing?! How could he not see it? That light had always been around him! Always! She saw it plain as day! She believed in it!

"No face as hideous,

As my face,

Was ever meant for Heaven's Light!"

Tears began to flood her sight, but Sophia didn't have the strength to wipe them away. How could he believe that?! Why couldn't he see that someone did love him! That his appearance never had anything to do with why she loved him! She didn't care! She loved him for _who_ he was, not what he _looked_ like! It didn't have anything to do with it! Nothing at all!

"But suddenly an Angel,

Has smiled at me!

And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright!"

Sophia's heart nearly stopped. Kissed? When did she kiss him? She couldn't recall a time where she had kissed his cheek. Wait. She felt the warm blood that ran through her veins stop cold. Suddenly that blood turned against her and threatened to freeze her whole insides completely. Esmeralda. Where was Esmeralda?!

"I dare to dream that she,

Might even care for me,

And as I ring these bells tonight!"

Sophia felt as if someone had slapped her across the face. Esmeralda was the one to kiss him. She had to be! She was the one who had done the one thing Sophia wanted to do for the past five years. Kiss Quasi. She wanted to, but every time something happened. Every time she got the courage, it suddenly fled her. It wasn't because of his looks, that had nothing to do with it. It was because she was afraid that he would tell her to find someone else. She was frightened that he wouldn't truly _believe_ she did love him. Sophia backed away and slowly drifted into the shadows of the scaffold as Quasi made his way up a ladder to begin ring in the hour.

It hurt! It hurt so _much_! Why?! Why couldn't she have just kissed him before all this?! Why was she so weak?! Why couldn't she just forget her fear and show him she cared about him more than just a friend?! It was too late now. There was no going back. If she kissed him now it would only confuse him! She had her chance, now Quasi's feelings and hopes depended on the acceptance of Esmeralda. Sophia could only hope that the gypsy woman would not destroy them because if she did, Quasimodo would surely break and be lost. The tears came freely now and the young redhead just looked on as Quasi pulled down on a rope and let the first bell ring out. She let out a broken sob.

"My cold, dark tower seems so bright.

I swear it must be Heaven's Light!"

Sophia couldn't remain a moment longer. It hurt too much! She didn't even bother with being quiet as she launched herself out of the shadows of the scaffolding and make a break for the steps. He wasn't hers. He wasn't hers! He would never _be_ hers!

"Sophia?!"

The thoroughly stunned sound of his musical voice almost made her stop. Almost. She hesitated for a moment, just a moment, before fleeing down the steps. There was the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind her and she knew Quasi was giving chase. This fact did not stop her. She wanted to be alone! She wanted to cry alone in peace! She didn't want the comfort of his arms at this moment because it would only make the pain in her heart worse!

"Sophia stop!"

She did not heed him but only kept running. What was with all the running today? She put the thought away and focused on getting out of the cathedral and home to her mother. He mother. She was so angry at her this morning but now she wanted her mother to wrap her up in her arms and hug her! Sophia took a sharp turn and raced down the circular stone staircase, Quasi was ganging on her! She had no idea he could actually run this fast!

"Stop Sophia! You're hurt enough as it is!"

She couldn't help but think bitterly,_ 'You don't know how much I'm hurting!'_

When she entered the sanctuary, she quickly judged where was the best place to lose him. Lose him . . . it sounded so wrong! But Sophia continued to run, where she was going she didn't quite know but she soon came to a small door that led to the outside on the far, far side of Notre Dame. She opened it, checked quickly for guards and finding none, took her chance and fled out the door. She swung her hand out so it would catch the frame and caused the door to slam shut. Not wanting to wait around for guards, Sophia fled down an alley and made her way home.

By the time Quasi found the door she had used, Sophia was already gone. He stood there looking out into the street, calling her name but no answer came.

He was alone.

"_SOPHIA!_"

**Sooo . . . how was it? I know, I'm still teary eyed! This chapter was sorta painful for me to write because of all the emotional conflic Sophia is going through. She's angry, heartbroken, jealous, and yet, still very much in love with Quasi even though he is falling for Esme.**

**Speaking of our fine gypsy friend. Esme is NOT trying to steal Quasi. She really doesn't know that he's becoming attracted to her. For one, she's not in love with him, and two, she just really wants to be his friend. Much like in the movie. An example of this, her line to Quasi near the end:**

**"Don't forget what is important."**

**She was reffering to Sophia! Because in the short time she has known our main heroine, she can see the huge and fierce amount of love Sophia has for Quasi. In truth, Esmeralda ADMIRES that. And we'll see some Esme and Phoebus moments too, but not quite yet. I still have things planned for the next two chapters.**

**I hope this clears up any questions and if you have more, please PM me and we'll talk it out. Thanks again and pleae leave a nice review in the box below! **


	15. Hellfire

**Alright everyone! Hellfire is up! I hope this chapter pleases everyone! I'm really too tired right now to say much else. Sorry. Roll chapter!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Hellfire**

_**Third Person**_

_**Frollo's POV**_

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and . . .

"This accomplishes nothing!"

Judge Claude Frollo swung out an arm only for the sleeve of his robe to catch on a nearby vase and send it crashing to the stone floor. This only added to the judge's already fraying nerves and wild emotions and he kicked out viciously at a larger fragment, sending it skittering across the room only for it to hit the opposing wall and shatter. Feeling slightly better then he did before, he brushed his graying hair from his eyes and strode calmly over to an open window. As he gazed out over Paris, he witnessed the city's inhabitants turning in for the night. Lanterns and candles alike were being snuffed out as children were being tucked snugly into their beds and parents too, pulling back the bed covers in preparation for sleep.

He sighed. If only sleep for him would come as pleasantly. Visions of _her_ would not leave him. Her open skin was taunting him so and the heavy, sweet smell of her hair still hung in his nostrils. Everywhere he turned he saw her in the shadows, her emerald orbs glinting brightly in the moonlight like a cat's and the flash of her lips that easily weakened his resolve to nothing. Why could he not rid himself of her image?! Why could she not leave him in blessed peace?! WHY?!

He tiredly rubbed his temples in frustration to try to relieve the tension there. However, this did not help him in the slightest. Nothing he had done had any effect on his visions and the feelings that burned deep within him. He needed help from a different source, one of heavenly intervention. He took a deep breath in order to steady himself before he began his prayer.

"Beata Mari,

You know I am a righteous man.

Of my virtrue I am justly proud."

_Et tibit pater_

Frollo ran a rather unsteady hand through his thin, graying hair, a light sheen of perspiration on his brow. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his sleeve, his thoughts once again drifting to the gypsy girl. Still, in the mist of his prayer to the Holy Mother, that emerald-eyed wench would not leave him. Not even for a holy prayer!

"Beata Maria,

You know I'm so much purer than

The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd . . ."

_Quia peccavi nimis_

Feeling the chill of the night, he slowly moved away from the window and began a steady pace towards the warmth of the great fireplace. He felt suddenly very, very ill. He wished nothing more than for a dreamless sleep to over take him! A sleep that was not filled with images of _her!_

"Than tell me, Maria,

Why I see her dancing there?

Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?!"

_Cogiatione_

He stopped before the flames, hoping to find some sort of relief within the fire. Instead, he was met with Esmeralda's fiery form, her thinly flamed dress clung to her like a second skin and Frollo was suddenly lost in her lithe figure. His eyes wandered over the image for several moments before ripping his gaze from the fire, guilt and revulsion firmly hitting him in the stomach. Why could he not resist?!

"I feel her, I see her!

The sun caught in her raven hair,

Is blazing in me out of all control!"

_Verbo et opere_

He carefully withdrew the purple and gold scarf that the wench had left around his neck from the folds of his robes. He rubbed his hands over the silky material, letting himself indulge in its softness. There was no denying the burning feeling deep within himself any longer. He craved her! He suddenly drew back from the flames as if burned and yet, he wanted that warmth! He wanted that feeling of her against him more than he wanted anything else in his life!

"Like fire!

Hellfire!

This fire in my skin . . .

This burning,

desire,

Is turning me to sin!"

Whether it was by delusion of his mind or the result of exhaustion, Frollo did not know, however, figures in red cloaks suddenly appeared before him! Their cloaks were blood red and their large hoods hid their faces so he could not see the features that lay beneath. True fear began to overwhelm him and he cried out in denial for his thoughts and emotions.

"It's not my fault!"

_Mea culpa_

The red cloaked figures seemed to respond in unison at his denial and replied so in the Latin tongue. Frollo, understanding the true meaning of those two words, began to frantically to try to justify himself.

"I'm not to blame!"

_Mea culpa_

"It is the gypsy girl,

The witch who set this flame!"

_Mea maxima culpa_

The monks continued their chanting causing Frollo to whirl about in panic and desperation. He was sweating fully now but did not bother to remove this time. The fear of these hellish figures was too great for him to do much else but circle about and plead for mercy and understanding.

"If in God's plan,"

_Mea culpa_

"He made the devil so much stronger than a man!"

_Mea Maxima culpa_

The red cloaked monks themselves became flames, flames hotter than he had ever felt before and rushed him all at once thoroughly engulfing him in fire before flying into the fireplace itself. As the fire died, Frollo rose to his feet from where he had fallen in fear. Still clutching Esmeralda's scarf to his chest like a lifeline, he sang out for relieve.

"Protect me, Maria!

Don't let this siren cast her spell!

Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone!"

He knew deep in his heart he could not have her. Should not have her! And yet, and yet he would not be without her! If he could not have her, then by God above . . . no one ever would!

"Destroy Esmeralda,

And let her taste the fires of Hell!

Or else let her be mine and mine alone!"

A wisp of smoke curled out from the fireplace and seemed to shift into a form that Esmeralda's. He reached out for her, spreading his arms wide to embrace her as the phantom did for him. Just as they were about to met, a harsh knock echoed from across the room and broke whatever spell that had fallen over him. He turned round just in time to see one of his guards at the door.

"Minister Frollo," He reported gravely. "The gypsy and the other woman has escaped."

"What?" Frollo whispered, not truly understanding the man's words.

"There's no sign of them in the cathedral," The guard alliterated. "They've disappeared."

"But how?!" The judge raged, shaking his head in disbelieve. "Get out you idiot! I'll find them, I'll find them if I have to burn down all of Paris!"

The man left and Frollo turned back to the fireplace, his anger boiling over. He looked to the scarf still clutched in his hand, then to the fire, and then back again. They wished to play chase with him? Very well, then he would humor them. This time however, they would not escape his grasp! With a cry of pure fury, Frollo tossed the scarf into the fire, watching as the flames swiftly consumed the delicate material.

"Hellfire!

Dark fire!

Now gypsy, it's your turn!

Chose me or your pyre!

He would find them! And when he did, he would make sure both women met ends full of pain and suffering! But not before taking what he rightfully deserved first. No, he would make sure both woman gave him what he deserved! This he vowed!

"But she will be mine,

Or she . .

Will . . . .

BURN!"

Be mine or you will burn!"

**Well? Good? Terrible? Tolerable? Smashing? Leave a review in the box below and I have the next chapter up soon. Then we get to see how Sophia's mother is going to react to all this craziness and SURPRISE . . . an approprite suiter has been found for our main heroine! Whatever shall become of Sophia's love for Quasi?! Is there a way to stop the arrange marrige? Who is this suiter?**

**You'll all find out . . . next chapter! Keep the faith people! Good Nite!**


	16. An Unexpected Development

**I have returned! And with Chapter Sixteen in tow! I didn't get any feedback on the last chapter, so I hope Hellfire wasn't a total disaster. Hopfully this one will bring in more reviews. As Always, than you readers and reviewers! All of you are amazing!**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**An Unexpected Development**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Run. Keeping running. Don't stop. Don't look back. Run! Sophia repeated these words like a sacred mantra as she pushed herself forward and ignored the calls that echoed behind her. It was a call she would not answer. Not now. She weaved between houses and shops until finally, she came to the stone bridge. She slowed her pace to almost a crawl, the day's events finally hitting her. Her body began to shake, her hands felt clammy, and sweat from running so much dripped down her temples. In short, she was exhausted. Exhausted and brokenhearted. She felt as if the world was crashing down around her.

She slowly made her way over the bridge, her body propelling her forward even though her mind had no idea of her movements. She paused in front of her house, her hand resting on the doorknob but for some reason, she could not turn it. As if she didn't have the strength to twist the medal object and allow herself into the comfort of her own home. Though, she wasn't sure if it was still a comfort. She still had yet to face her mother and it was an ordeal she didn't know she had the energy to deal with.

"Sophia?" Came a concerned gasp off to her right.

With painstaking slowness, the young redhead turned her head to face the owner of the voice. When she did, she found Pascal the baker standing several feet from her, a lone candle in his hand and still dressed in his work apron. At seeing how pale and haggard she looked, her adoptive father reeled backward away in horror.

"Dear Lord, Sophia!" Pascal's voice had become so quiet from shock that she barely heard him. "W-what . . .?!"

She turned her head away, not able to face his deeply concerned and worried expression. She couldn't bare it! Why did everything she did or didn't do resulted in pain?! She failed to protect Quasi from the crowd, she failed to win his affection, she worried Pascal, she scared her mother, and above all else . . . she knew that she couldn't keep the would be suitors at bay for much longer. She made it this far, but how much longer could she draw it out? She would have to marry _someone!_ And now, now any chances that someone could have been _him, _was dashed the moment Esmeralda kissed his cheek. There was no longer any hope that somehow Quasi and she could have a life together. She would just have to except the facts: Quasi was not hers, he would never _be_ hers, and she would have to wed a man that her society could accept and respect.

_Thud! _Sophia's head fell against the wood, not caring that a bruise was likely to form as a result. She welcomed the pain! It relieved some of the pain that was threatening to squeeze the life out of her. She raised her head just enough and let it fall again. _Thud! _More pain, this time she could barely feel the heartache for the pain in her forehead was enough to drown out all the rest. Again she raised her head in preparation to slam it against the door but, before she could, someone quickly drew her away from the wood.

"Stop this Sophia!" Pascal suddenly had her in his arms, holding her to him tightly in case she tried to get away. "Don't hurt yourself like that! It's not your fault, you hear! It's not your fault!"

Sophia suddenly felt confused. What wasn't her fault? What was Pascal talking about? She wiggled her head away from his sternum so she could look at him clearly.

"W-what are you . ." She trailed off as a hiccup found its way up her throat. "Talking about, Pascal?"

Now it was the baker's turn to be perplexed and his face fell slightly in turn, "I saw what happened at the festival, Sophia. I saw . . ."

Whatever amount blood that remained in her face now drained completely. Pascal witnessed the scene in the square! He saw her try to protect Quasi and openly defy Frollo! Oh great Lord above! What did he think of her? Was he ashamed to be like a father to her? Did he hate her because she went against the whole Parisian community? And what of her mother? Did she know? Had she seen too?

"D-do . . do you hate me?" Sophia asked hoarsely, her throat suddenly so dry that she barely got the words out. She bowed her head in shame, not able to met the man's eyes. "Pascal?"

The baker's eyes widened in disbelief, "Good heaven's girl! Of course not!" He tugged her close again, "I could never _hate_ you. Don't you ever think that, you hear me! _Ever!_"

Pascal reached up and stroked her thick, curly hair with the love only a father could express. Ever since Jean Chevalier passed away two years prier Pascal the baker had been there to offer comfort and security that only a father could give. While no one could ever fully replace her father, Sophia felt the baker was the closest any of her father's friends that could fill that role. And so he had.

Tears began to flood Sophia's blue eyes and once again, she found herself crying. She had shed so many tears today. She didn't want to cry anymore! She buried her face into Pascal's tunic, gripping the thick fabric tightly in her tiny hands and sobbed. She just couldn't hold the pain inside anymore. Tears of anger, fear, and heartbreak spilled over as Pascal held her, murmuring comforting words and offering love and acceptance. He did not hate her and he was not angry. Sophia felt such relief at that sole fact. At least, there was one person in the world that she could still count on to be there for her and perhaps Clare, Pascal's wife, too.

Eventually the tears stopped and Sophia's sobs subsided, her breathing steadily returning to its normal rhythm. "Thank you Pascal," She pulled away and wiped her eyes and face with her sleeve. "I'm sorry for all that."

"Don't you dare apologize Sophia," The baker admonished gently, reaching up and wiping away a stray tear. "If anything I'm the one that must apologize."

"Huh?!" The young redhead looked startled. "Why must you apologize? You didn't do anything?!"

The baker nodded slowly, "And that is exactly why, girl. I did nothing."

Sophia blinked blankly. She still didn't understand.

Pascal sighed heavily then explained, "I, with all the others, saw the cruelty that Judge Frollo was committing to that poor soul and I, like so many others, did not approve. However, I knew the consequences of going against the minister. I knew the price and that fact alone was enough for me to stay where I was and not act."

He paused, then knelt down to her level and took her hands in his. "Sophia, listen to me, what you did . . was a very brave thing. You knew it was wrong, that it was a very cruel and ugly thing. But you, along with that gypsy, _stopped_ it! You, of all people, didn't care about what happened to you as long as that man was sparred."

Pascal smiled somewhat sadly at her, "You have more courage than this old man. You and the gypsy." He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I was not able to protect you from Frollo. It is not the responsibility of the young to right the wrongs of their parents. We try to teach you respect and kindness and yet we turn our backs to the cruelty and hate that has become apart of our culture. Its wrong and its not right. For that, Sophia, I'm sorry. So very sorry."

"Oh Pascal!" Emotion filled her at her adoptive father's words and with all the strength that she possessed, flung her arms around his neck. "Don't. It's alright, really. I promise, I'm okay."

"Indeed," The baker removed her arms from around him and looked at her with deep respect. "It seems that you are not harmed. Not much at least." He gestured to her cheek and bandaged neck, his mouth becoming a grim line. "I saw that soldier almost kill you. If not for the hunchback I fear I would have lost you, girl. If I ever meet him, I wish to thank him. Thank him for my daughter."

In the two years that Pascal had become her adoptive father, he had never once called him his daughter! Not once had he told her! Now, in that one word alone, he told her everything! That one word by him was all she needed: she was a daughter to a father again! She was Pascal the baker's daughter!

"Oh," Sophia couldn't help becoming teary-eyes again. "Father!"

She embraced him once more and the two of them shared a fierce, unbreakable hug. They two of them had both lost a father and a daughter, yet tonight, they had regained one as well. In Sophia's mind, it didn't matter if they were not father and daughter by blood. The only thing that mattered was that they cared enough about each other to think of them in such a light. That was the important thing, because, in a sense, they both needed someone to fill that respected place in their hearts.

Pascal coughed rather uncomfortably, "There now. You best get inside now, your mother's been worried about you."

Sophia reluctantly pulled away, "Must I? I'm sure it'll be alright if I spent the night with you and Clare."

The baker shook his head sternly. "Sophia, she's been worried sick about you the moment she heard Frollo had trapped you inside Notre Dame. She needs to know you are _safe_."

"Yes sir," The young redhead complied, turning away and placing her hand over her doorknob. "He saved me Pascal, the bell ringer. He's not . . . he's not evil like everyone thinks he is. He's the one who took care of my wounds." She looked back and sent her father a pleading look. "Don't fear him, please. He's really kind and shy. He was frightened afterward you know. Promise me you won't be afraid of him."

"I promise," The baker replied. "After all, he brought my daughter back to me. How can I fear something that risked his life to save you? I promise you this Sophia, any fear or hatred I ever possessed for that soul is gone now. I will never fear or hate or poke fun at the hunchback again. I promise."

He smiled then shooed at her, "Now get inside and quite stalling! Your mother is waiting."

Sophia nodded, turned the doorknob, and went inside.

_**The Home of Sophia Chevalier**_

"Mother!" She called out as she closed the door behind her and walked into the dining room that was directly to her left. "I'm home!"

There was the sound of ceramic shattering against the floor and the rapid sound of foot steps approaching from the kitchen that lay straight ahead. A flash of brown whipped around the corner and standing in the door frame of the kitchen, directly in front of her, was Lea Chevalier. Her mother.

The woman was about in her late thirties and had long, light, brown hair that was tied up in a bun at the top of her head. A few stray hairs had escaped the bun and hung clumsily around the woman's thin face. She had flour on her hands, arms, and face, probably the cause of making supper. She was tall, about five foot three making her way taller than her daughter and wore a simple brown dress that was clearly worn, but for the most part, very clean. On top of the dress was a white apron which was heavily stained with everything ranging from chicken's blood to dirt and of course, flour was plastered all across the material. She looked quite haggard, as if she had been under a great amount of stress.

"Sophia?" Lea whispered roughly, as if she had been crying. She continued to stare across at her daughter as if she wasn't sure if the person in front of her was real or a figment of her imagination.

"Hello mother." Sophia greeted, matching her mother's quiet tone. She spread her arms, palms up and gave a small shrug. "I'm home."

"You're home," Lea stated in complete wonder. Then it was as if time sped up again and Madame Chevalier rushed forward to embrace her daughter in a hold so tight that Sophia could hardly breathe. "You're _home! _Oh thank the Lord in heaven, child! My child is home!"

"Eep!" Sophia struggled to breathe but soon gave up. The two of them had been arguing so much over the past few days about suitors and marriage that Sophia was quite glad that they were back on speaking terms. "Mama, I love you too but, I would like to breathe. That is, if you don't mind."

"Oh!" Lea pulled back so as to hold her child at arms length and get a good look at her.

Sophia felt like she was under a hawk's gaze by the way her mother was looking her over and taking in every single detail. Then, without so much as a word, Lea turned on her heel and headed back into the kitchen leaving the young redhead slightly confused. What had she done now? But her questions were answered when her mother came back with a tiny, black, ceramic pot in hand. A band of string tied a piece of cloth around the pot's lip to prevent the cloth from coming off. Sophia knew exactly what was in the pot, it was a healing salve that her mother made for cuts, burns, and wounds of all kinds.

"Now," Lea set the pot on the small kitchen table, untied the string, and removed the cloth before dipping two fingers into the yellowish paste and beckoning her daughter to turn her head. "Let's see that cheek of yours."

Sophia obediently turned her head and let her mother apply the salve. It burned slightly but that meant it was doing its job. She sighed softly. She had no idea what to tell her mother. Usually by now, Lea would be demanding answers and ranting about her daughter's unladylike behavior. However, her mother was being strangely silent.

"Mama?" The young redhead let her brows furrow in confusion and concern. "Are you alright? What is wrong?"

Her mother did not look up from her task and nor did she answer Sophia's questioning. She just sighed before she wiped her fingers on the apron and put the cover back over the jar. As Lea finished tying the string in place, she glanced up at her daughter and sighed once more.

"I am glad you are safe, Sophia." The older woman hesitated before pressing on. "I was so worried when Pascal told me what happened at the festival. Is there . . is there anything I can do for you? Are you hungry? I made your favorite."

The young redhead smiled gently, "I think soup is a grand idea Mama."

Lea returned her daughter's grin with one of her own, "I'll make you a bowl."

Then with a swish of her mother's brown skirts, entered the kitchen to finish dinner. Sophia sighed again for what had to be the hundredth time and sat down in the nearest chair. She decided that she would tell her mother everything. Well, almost everything. She wouldn't tell her about her being in love with Quasi or the fact that she had passed out in his tower and ended up sleeping his bed. Her head jerked at the last bit. It implied a heck of a lot more than it actually meant. Everything else she knew she couldn't keep secret. Frollo's threats, helping Esmeralda, and the Captain of the Guard helping them escape Frollo's attempt of take them to the Palace of Justice. She had to tell her.

"Here we are dear!"

Sophia looked up to see her mother carrying a tray containing two bowls of hot soup, two glasses of wine, a loaf of fresh bread, and a large wedge of cheese. She was surprised at the bread and cheese. They never really had the money to buy it because it was so expensive, even with the discount that Pascal gave them. They could make it, but it took such a long time and for the most part it was saved for special occasions.

"That's quite a feast there, Mother." The young redhead commented lightly, looking approvingly at the bread and cheese.

"Seeing as my daughter almost died risking her life the way she did today," Lea started, setting the table and placing the wine, cheese, and bread in the center so they both could reach it. "I decided that such an event warranted such feasting."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to do much of that anytime soon, I can assure you." Sophia stated as she began to cut herself a slice of bread and placed a small hunk of cheese upon it. "I've had enough excitement for one day and even though it's nice to have a meal such as this," She gestured to the spread. "I'm not going to risk my neck like that for a good meal. It's not worth it."

Lea laughed, "Good. For a moment there I thought you've taken leave of your senses." Then she grew solemn, "I should know that no matter what unladylike things you do, they've never truly caused any real trouble. You have always had good sense, I have forgotten that."

"Mama . . ."

Her mother shook her head to silence her, "No Sophia, let me speak. When Pascal first told me of what you did in the square I was furious. However, he sternly told me that I should be proud. Proud to have a daughter who stood up for the common people, for those whose lives are so much more of a struggle to live than our own. He told me that you never made waves about issues that were not worthy of protest. Then, Pascal told me something that really put everything into perspective."

Lea paused for a moment, looking down into the depths of her soup before meeting her daughter's eyes and continuing. "He told me that your father brought you up to respect all people, even those who no one cared for in the slightest; gypsies for example. Jean taught you better than to stand by and allow such cruelty to continue when you have the opportunity to end it."

Sophia couldn't believe her ears! Was her mother . . . finally beginning to understand her? Finally seeing why she made the decisions she did and . . . and being proud of her for them! It was such a shock!

"I suppose," Her mother stated uncomfortably. "It's because you are so much _like_ Jean that I try to rein you in, so to speak. You take after him in so many ways. Your looks, your views, and your values. It's just hard for me to accept that he's gone at times and with the two of you being so much alike . . ." Again she trailed off. "I know it hasn't been fair to you and . . . I'm sorry."

The young redhead reached across the table and gently grasped her mother's slightly wrinkled hand. "It is forgotten Mama. Don't dwell on it."

Lea grinned at her daughter, seeing how grown up she truly was. "Very well," Her mother then picked up her spoon and pointed it sternly at her. "But don't think this means you can wiggle out of courtship young lady. You still need to wed _some_one!"

Sophia groaned, "Maaaaamaaaa!"

"Now don't start, girl!"

"But-!"

A sharp knock came at the front door, silencing both mother and daughter. Lea carefully rose to her feet and made her way to the door.

"Sophia, stay were you are."

Her mother's voice was sharp and commanding. A tone she rarely, if ever, used. Sophia stayed rooted in her chair, her hand clamped tightly around the handle of her spoon. Lea paused in front of the door, hesitant to open it but when another knock came she knew she had no choice.

"Sophia get in the kitchen and hide in the broom cupboard. Don't come out unless I tell you to."

Not one to argue with her since they just made up, Sophia quickly rose to her feet, ran for the kitchen, and slid into the broom cupboard as fast as she possibly could. Once she was settled in darkness, she heard her mother open the door. The young redhead closed her eyes and sent up a prayer that it wasn't one of Frollo's soldiers looking for her. If it was, then she prayed that her mother would not be harmed in denying that she was here.

_'Please dear Lord, don't let any harm come to her! Please spare her! She's done nothing wrong!'_

The sound of voices began to drift from the front door and into her hiding spot.

"Hello! Is this the Chevalier home? You see, when I came into town this was the address my father gave me. He was friends with Jean, you see."

Wait a moment . . . ! She knew that voice! No! It couldn't be! It just couldn't! What on earth was _he_ doing at her _house?! _Now that she knew that the person at her door was no threat, Sophia threw herself from the cupboard and made a mad dash for the front door.

"Oh my! Yes, I've been expecting you! I'm so sorry! You see, I thought that you were . . ."

"Just what in the name of all that is holy are _you_ doing here?!" Sophia cried from the dinning room door frame, her eyes blazing angrily at the man now standing just inside the door.

Lea whirled about, surprised that her daughter was speaking to the man with such impudence and disrespect. That fact that she appeared to know the visitor was not lost on Madame Chevalier either. "Sophia! Just what in the world has gotten into you?!"

The young redhead didn't remove her gaze from the man, her anger nearly boiling over. "ME?! What about him?!" She pointed an accusing finger at the figure, "How could you let _him_ in here?!"

The man raised his hands in peace, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Well, I didn't expect the Chevalier I was suppose to met would be _you_ in particular. If I had, I might have run in the other direction."

"Oh?!" Sophia bristled. "Well, here's your chance! Take it! You'll get the same answer I've told the others. NO!"

"Now, now," The man placated, stepping fully into the house and carefully closing the door behind him. "If I'm to be insulted I rather you do it when I'm fully _inside_, thank you. It's a bit chilly out there, you see."

"Do you really think I give a . . ?!"

"SOPHIA CHEVALIER! THAT IS _ENOUGH!_"

Both parties stopped short of raising their voice further and turned to met the furious gaze of Lea Chevalier who was not pleased with her daughter's behavior towards the polite gentleman who had come in response to her letters. Well, partly because of her letters. In truth, the new position as Frollo's Captain of the King's Archers is what truly brought him here.

Phoebus only smiled and tried hard not to laugh. "Please Madame, it's quite alright." He turned back to Sophia and offered her a flirty smile, "Sophia and I are already well acquainted. Isn't that right . . . dear?"

Sophia huffed angrily as she tried not to blush at his attempts to placate her and growled through clenched teeth, "I. Am. Not. Your. _Dear!_"

"No?" He seemed greatly offended, then shrugged indifferently. "More's the pity I suppose."

She opened her mouth to talk back, but Lea smoothly interrupted. "The two of you have already met? When did this happen?"

Sophia groaned, she was planning on explaining the series of events that occurred _after_ the festival but with Phoebus here he was probably going to draw everything he knew out and make a huge issue out of the whole ordeal.

"Sophia didn't tell you?" The golden clad soldier asked rather surprised. "Well, you see Madame . . ."

"Mama!" Sophia protested, trying to steer the conversation in her favor. "I was going to tell you after dinner! You see, after me and the bell ringer went inside Notre Dame, the gypsy Esmeralda followed us! Frollo followed too and he caught her and tried to take her in, but I stopped him and then he threatened to take us both in and then _this_ man," The young redhead stopped long enough to point at Phoebus who was looking rather impressed that she was able to say so much in one breath.

"Came to arrest us but instead he came up with a plan to spare us from the dungeons and told us to claim sanctuary and Frollo couldn't do anything about it and then I had to wait long enough for the guards to switch out before I could escape and come home!"

It took Lea several moments to sort of everything her daughter had told her, which was quite a bit. Then, once she had Sophia's side of the story sorted out as much as possible, turned to Phoebus for confirmation. "Is what she says true? Did you really go there to arrest her? To take her in for just trying to help that poor soul?"

"Originally?" Phoebus asked rhetorically before further explaining himself. "No. I witnessed the punishment in the square myself, Madame. I knew exactly what Sophia did for that man. Both women in fact."

"Sooo," Lea drawled, trying to understand his point. "You went in search for them why?"

"Because I wanted to make sure they escaped," He said simply, looking Sophia's mother straight in the eyes. "I didn't want to arrest them. I only put up a front that I was going to so Frollo wouldn't be suspicious. It wouldn't have worked otherwise."

"I see," Lea sighed, then smiled up at the Captain. "It seems I owe you my daughter's life, Sir."

Phoebus waved a hand in a 'pshaw' motion. "Madame, it was no great feat. If anything, "He glanced over at Sophia. "I believe you must congratulate your daughter. She is most resourceful and a wonderful actress."

The young redhead was not phased in the slightest, "Flattery will get you nowhere with me."

Lea turned to rebuff her daughter, but Phoebus placed an arm over her shoulder. Her mother turned towards him, a scold on her lips but he spoke first.

"If I could have a moment alone with Sophia," he glanced over at the redhead and shot her a serious look. "Then, I believe we can work out our differences. That is," he added hurriedly, "With your permission Madame."

Lea looked at Phoebus for a moment, then her daughter, then back to the Captain, and then once again at her daughter. "I suppose a few minutes would be tolerable. That is, if the two of you can keep those sharp tongues of yours in check."

"Of course Madame," Phoebus lifted the lip of his helm at her out of respect. "We'll be sure to keep civil. Right Sophia?"

She was about to say something snarky, but the now serious expression that flashed across the man's face made her think better of it. She swallowed the insult and gave her mother a half smile.

"Yes mother. Phoebus and I," She gave him a quick warning glance. "Will be quite civil to each other. I promise."

Phoebus was lucky she always kept her promises or else this would be turning into an all out shouting match. Her mother cast the both of them a weary glance before nodding in acceptance.

"Very well then. Just try not to kill each other, alright?"

"Yes, mother."

"Of course, Madame."

Sophia watched as her mother went into the dinning room to clean up. Once she was sure her mother was out of earshot, she reached over, took Phoebus by the crook of his elbow and led him into the small room to the right that served as a den. Once they were inside the room, she shut the door behind her and turned to face the Captain.

"Alright you," She crossed her arms over her chest and stared firmly at him. "Just what the hell is going on? And don't you dare say you're here to marry me, 'cause I know there's more to it than that!"

Phoebus, who was leaning over the mantle of the fireplace looking at all the odds and ends, took several moments to think before raising a gloved hand to his bearded chin and giving it a thoughtful rub.

"Hmm," He hummed, then suddenly snapped his fringes in an _aha_ moment. "I don't suppose you're willing to _pretend_ to get married?"

This, was not the suggestion she had been expecting.

"W-what?! _Pretend?!_" She exclaimed in shock.

"Shhh!" Phoebus quickly crossed over to where she was standing and pressed a hand to her mouth while holding a finger to his lips. "Do you want you're mother to hear?!"

She reached up and slapped his hand away from her before leaning towards him and hissing, "Just what do you mean by _pretend?!_"

"Just what it sounds like," Phoebus stated calmly, smiling almost childlike. "That's the whole brilliance of it."

"Care to explain, Oh Master of Secrets?" Sophia growled in frustration, she wasn't following his train of thought at all. Then spat sarcastically, "Or do I have to guess?"

"Well," Phoebus drawled slowly, raising a hand to stroke his beard again. "Guessing would make this more fun."

"You're insane!" The young redhead hissed, throwing her hands up in agitation and turning away from him, only for her to round on him again. "You know that?! Insane! Crazy! Loopy! I don't care what else you call it! Can't you talk straight for once?!"

"Oh, I suppose," Phoebus sighed mournfully and sitting down in a chair. "Really, must you be a killjoy?"

"I swear, Sun God . . ." She threatened, but he cut her short.

"Sun God?" He asked confused and yet, intrigued. "How did you know that's the literal meaning of my name?"

Sophia huffed impatiently, she had no time for this! "Because I read you fool! What, did you think I was some idiot of a girl?!"

"No, I didn't say that," Phoebus stated coldly, loosing his humor entirely. "Nor was I thinking it for a moment. Look," He rubbed his temple as if he was getting a headache. "Can we just stop trying to rip the other apart here? We did promise your mother we would be civil."

I suppose," The young redhead rolled her eyes then took a deep breath to calm herself. "Now, what's this about _pretending_ to get married?"

"Well," Phoebus began, straightening up in his chair and gesturing her to take a seat. She did so. "It would solve your love problem for one."

"My . . love problem?" Sophia raised an eyebrow at him incredulously, but still remained calm enough for him to continue.

"Yes, because you see," The Captain smiled, wagging a finger at her knowingly. "The whole reason why you haven't accepted a suitor yet is because you're holding out for someone. Someone who the whole city would never, _ever_ approve of."

Sophia felt all the blood drain from her face. Phoebus knew! Somehow, someway, he knew! What methods he used to find out she didn't know, but he knew! He knew she was in love with Quasi! Panic ensued within her, causing sweat to break above her brow and her hands went clammy She had to find a way out of this!

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Phoebus pressed, leaning forward and pinning her with his deep, hazel gaze. "You're in love with the hunchback of Notre Dame."

**Okay, ****how was THIS chapter? Much better? Or is there more I need to work on? Oh and you'll find out Phoebus' plan next chapter! I won't keep you in suspence for tooo long. Okay, maybe just a little! ****Ahem, many thanks for all you readers and reviewers out there. I really do love you. Really I do!**


	17. The Proposal

**I'm Baaaack! This one is a little shorter than the last, but that's because I want to save what happens next for next chapter. It'll give me more room to do what I have planned and have it play out smoother. So please, no angry mobs or anything!**

**Special thanks to . . .**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**CityCat**

**grapejuice101**

**SummertimeRose**

**Nicole**

**Anne**

**Whatever-chan**

**Istric**

**Ariella and Daniella**

**Many thanks to all of you who have written me such wonderful reviews! All of you help keep me going and without you, I would surely not be doing as well as I am! Thanks sooooooo much! Now, on with the chapter!**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Proposal**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She didn't have an inkling of what to do. She just sat there, rooted to the seat of her chair and blinked owlishly at the man. Either way, she was trapped. He knew! He knew but, how?! How could he have found out?! Was it _that_ obvious?! And here she thought she had done a fairly good job at covering it up.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." It passed her lips as a hoarse, almost silent whisper.

Phoebus cocked an eyebrow at her. "Really?" He drawled, leaning back in his chair. "And here I thought you were serious. I never took you as the kind of girl that just slung poor men's feelings about. My mistake."

Sophia's cheeks suddenly flashed ablaze in both anger and embarrassment. She'd never felt so appalled! Did he really think her that _shallow?! _After everything that transpired today he thought she was just playing with his feelings?! That she was toying with him just because she _could?!_ That none of it was truly real or heartfelt?! How dare he presume he understood a damn thing about their relationship! Even if there wasn't much feeling on _his_ side . . . she wasn't . . . she would never . . !

"You go too _far_, sir!" The young redhead immediately shot to her feet and threw her hands to her sides. Her bright, blue eyes were ablaze with such anger and rage that Phoebus actually winced and shrank back in his chair.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ say that! What could you possibly understand?! I _love_ him! I love him so much it _hurts!_ Do you have any idea what life for him is like?! Any idea at all?! No, because you've had loving and caring parents, you've been out in the sun, and you know what the world is like! He _doesn't!_"

Sophia's breath came heavily and ragged, but she did not care. She wasn't through yet.

"He's lived all alone in that tower with no one to love him! He's never known a mother's touch or a father's pride! He's never had a true friend in the world, save for the archdeacon! Frollo has tortured his mind to the point that he thinks he's a _monster!_ He thinks he's too horrid and ugly to be loved! That he, above all people, doesn't deserve it!"

The young redhead was shaking violently now and her vision was swimming in hot, wet tears. When she spoke again, her voice came out choked and sobbed ridden. "If anyone in this horrible, pitiful world deserves to be loved . . It. Is. _HIM!_"

She stood there shaking and tears streaming down her face for a moment, then abruptly sank back into her chair. She buried her head in her knees and sobbed, her heartbreaking all over again. She loved him and no matter what happened or who came her way, no one could ever fit into her heart the way Quasi did. No one could replace him, but . . . if Quasi was truly and deeply in love with Esmeralda, then what was she to do? Play the jealous friend and tell him to forget about the gypsy woman? Cry and beg for him to love _her_ instead? Make up lies and tell stories of how horrible and vile the woman he was falling in love was?

She could never do that! She wasn't the type of girl who would play dirty just to get the man of her dreams, even if that man didn't really have much completion going for him. She couldn't sink down to that level! She couldn't make up horrible stories or tell lies or do whatever it took to get him to love her. At least, not in _that_ way! Esmeralda was a good person! She was kind and caring and streetwise, and . . . and so different from Sophia. If Quasi truly loved Esmeralda, then who was Sophia to get in his way? Was she really going to come between them if the feeling was mutual? Was she going to uproot Quasi's own happiness for her own gain?

She loved him, but she also wanted his happiness. If he was happy with her, and she likewise with him, Sophia knew she had to let him go. She wouldn't trap him in a relationship that would only bring him sadness. As much as it hurt, as much pain she was in right now, she would endure it for eternity if Quasi found true love with Esmeralda. She loved him _that_ much!

"I know," Phoebus stated rather solemnly, his voice quiet. "I really see how much you care for him, I truly do. I was wrong to goad you into saying it, but I needed to know."

"Know what?" She spat bitterly at him, raising her head so she could look at him.

"To know how far you truly mean to go for him." The golden clad warrior's face was set in a very serious expression, an expression that Sophia didn't think he was capable of.

She narrowed her eyes suspicious at him. He was talking in circles again. "Care to exaggerate?"

Phoebus placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward so that they were staring at the other evenly. "You need to appear engaged to the outside world so that your mother will stop sending suitors letters and get this whole marriage thing up from over your head, correct?"

Sophia nodded in response but stayed silent, she wanted to hear him out completely before she agreed to whatever it was that he was trying to get at.

"Right then, that will hopefully give you enough of a cover to work something out with Quasimodo." Then he added with a shrug, "Not to mention when he finds out he'll probably be jealous as well."

She scoffed. Quasi jealous? Nay, he would be more or else happy with the fact that she was finally moving on in her life. He would smile and be happy for her.

"How can you be so sure he'll be jealous?" She questioned, "How do you know he wouldn't just be happy for me and let me go?"

"Because that's exactly what you would do," Phoebus smiled sneakily, as if he knew this all along. "Or rather, have been doing. You're trying to put your feelings for him away because you want him to be happy with whatever path he chooses. Do you honestly believe he wouldn't extend that same curtsey to you?"

"Are you saying," Sophia whispered cautiously and yet, completely floored. "That he . . loves me . . too?"

A Triumphant grin spread across the Captain's face. "Give the fine, young lady a prize!"

She sent him a withering glare before moving on, "How do you know for sure? How do I know that he's not really in love with Esmeralda?"

"Well, I don't truly know per say however," Phoebus scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I do know this . . ." He leaned forward and ruffled Sophia's now quite tangled red locks. "I know he wasn't too happy with me when I tried to see you later on. He pretty much attacked me and threw me down a flight of stairs. See," He pointed to a deep purple bruise on the left side of his jaw. "He has a very good right hook you know."

Sophia stared in shock at the color of the cruise. It was such a deep purple, almost black! Quasi had done that?!

"How do I know he wasn't also trying to protect Esmeralda too?" She countered, wanting a bit more evidence to support the soldier's claim. "How do I know that my safety was his top priority?"

"You sure are a picky one," Phoebus sighed. He thought for a moment, then it looked like a candle went off in his head. "Well, he reacted pretty badly when I told him I did you more harm than good by trapping you in Notre Dame. He gave me a look that pretty much told me he wanted to murder me right then and there."

Now her curiosity was peeked and so was her memory. She remembered the way his eyes changed at the festival when the guard held a knife to her throat. She remembered how they suddenly hardened into such pure hate and rage that it terrified her. Seeing him angry, truly angry, was a very scary and frightening thing.

"I know," She said quietly, turning her head away and staring into the empty fireplace. "I saw them too."

Phoebus nodded slowly in agreement. "It was not a good feeling. He asked me what I did to you and shoved a lit torch in my face as a warning."

"He shoved a torch in your face?!" This news greatly surprised her.

Quasi reacting violently to the soldier in the square she could understand, her life was being threatened right then and there. But for him to be openly violent when there was nothing that warranted such behavior . . . It astounded her! She wasn't there to witness the exchange between Quasi and Phoebus and she was pretty sure no one else was either. So why? Why did he act so aggressively?

"It is my belief," Phoebus divulged, choosing his words carefully. "That after everything that happened today, Quasi was protecting those who had done him both a kindness and had given him something he never had before." He straightened his back and stood up, offering his hand to her, "Sophia, I believe he really is in love with you; he just doesn't realize it yet. That, or he does but, like you said, doesn't feel like he is _worthy_ of your love."

Sophia reached up and took his gloved hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Do you really think so? That Quasi might not actually love Esmeralda after all?"

She looked up at him in hope, praying that it be so because if it was, there was hope for them yet. Then something else hit her.

"Wait," She shook her head in confusion. "What about you? What do you have to gain by pretending to marry _me?_"

The Captain's face shifted into a sort of embarrassed grin and suddenly became very interested in her ceiling. "You're not the only one who's fallen in love with someone else."

"Really now?" Sophia raised a bow, of course there had to be a reason for why he came up with the idea in the first place. He didn't plan all this out just for her sake after all. "And who's the lucky maiden, hmm?"

Phoebus tried avoiding her piercing, stern gaze, eventually caved in the end, he was certainly no match for her. "I'm afraid 'maiden' doesn't exactly describe her seeing as she can more or less handle herself. She's more of a 'terrifying goddess of beauty and quick thinking' than a 'fair maiden'."

At seeing the distant, faraway look in his eyes and how his face had gone slack as if seeing something Sophia definably could not, it wasn't hard to figure out.

"Sooo," She drawled reaching up and tapping him on the nose, startling him out of whatever vision he had fallen into. "The lovely, La Esmeralda huh? I should have known."

She shook her head in a sad sort of way, but smiled knowingly. "She is so way out of your league."

"Don't judge," Phoebus muttered in protest, sticking out his bottom lip and pouting.

Sophia burst into a fit of laughter and had to hold onto the back of a chair to keep from falling over. "You . . haha . . that face . . . hahahahah . . !"

"Oh!" The Captain exclaimed in both frustration and humor. "Do we have a deal or not? In the end, we both will profit from this."

That was enough to silence the young redhead's laughter. She stopped so suddenly that a coughing fit overtook her and she spent the next few moments trying to breathe again. She had to admit, there were some positives that came with it. It would get her mother off her back for one and it would stop all the suitors from coming to her front door. It also would hopefully knock some sense into Quasi about how he truly felt about her. She wasn't really doing this to make him jealous, just to see if she mattered more to him than just a friend. Phoebus had given her some pretty solid evidence so far, not to mention the way he reached at the festival when the guard tried to slit her throat.

She just wondered if it was enough. Was it? Sophia decided that she had enough of pretending, enough dancing around her feelings. She loved Quasi and she was going to make him see one way or the other that she did. She could only hope that he would return those feelings. That he would _allow_ her to love him, allow _himself_ to love.

"My dear husband," Sophia stated proudly with a smirk and reached to take Phoebus' hand in hers. "You have yourself a bride."

"Excellent!" Phoebus grinned, thoroughly ecstatic and squeezing her hand tightly. "Let's go tell that mother of yours we have a wedding to plan!"

Sophia and the Captain marched hand in hand for the door and once there, shook their joined hands in agreement. They met each others gaze for a moment, then Phoebus threw open the door and placed his right arm over his chest, bowing at the waist. "After you my_ dear._"

Sophia grinned playfully as she gathered up the edges of her tattered green skirts and gave a small, but graceful curtsy. "Why thank you, _dear._"

They both shared a small chuckle before filing out, Sophia rushed into the dinning room and cried out with great excitment . . .

"Mother! You're never going to believe this! I'm getting married!"

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

The trip back up to the tower had been a long and painful one. He didn't understand. Why did Sophia flee the bell tower like she had? Why did she run from him? At the memory of seeing her small form turn away from him and run away, Quasi felt as if someone had plunged a knife deep into his chest. Sophia _ran_ from him! His stomach twisted and turned violently in fast circles. He felt like he was going to be physically ill! Never before had the young redhead fled from him! She had never been afraid or scared of him, so why? Why now?! What could have caused her to . . . ?

He let the thought hang as he leaned against the side of his bed from his place on the floor. He tried to sleep, but he could not. Not when every time he closed his eyes he saw her retreating form in his mind. When had she awoken? Was it when he took Esmeralda out of Notre Dame and to the safety of her people? Did Sophia wake up only to find that he had broken his promise to her? His promise!

Quasi let out a mournful whimper and buried his disfigured face in his knees. His promise! He broke his promise! For the first time in his life, he had broken an oath to her! That must be the reason she fled from him! He left her alone in her frail and battered state and when she finally woke up, he was not there! He was not there! Sophia ran away from him because he did not keep his word to her. He swore he would be there when she woke up, he swore he would not leave her and what had he done?! He _left_ her!

How could she possibly trust him now that he had betrayed her trust? Her very belief in him? A quiet sob slipped passed Quasi's lips and his shoulders trembled. There was no rest for him tonight, not when he had turned away the one person in his entire life that made it worth living. As much as he liked Esmeralda, something kept pulling him in Sophia's direction. Like he was a sunflower looking for the sun. He couldn't explain it! But then, even so, Esmeralda was the one who had kissed him. She was the one who gave him the one thing no one else had, not even Sophia. His very first kiss!

What was he to do?!

**Well, now we see that Sophia and Phoebus are going to pretend to be engaged in order to buy enough time to wo the people they truely love. Neat idea right? Bet no one thought of that one! In any case, I wonder how Quasi is going to take the news? Not too well I would imagine. Anyway, we're still following the movie and we know what happens next right? No? Well, I won't tell you. My lips are sealed.**

**I'm still following the course of the movie but now things are going to pick up a bit. Can you believe I spent 17 whole chapters that build up to the point of Frollo getting ready to go on an all out manhunt? I really hope these 17 chapters haven't dragged the storyline down or have come across as slow. Right, I'm getting off track. Things are gonna pick up some speed now that we're building up to the climax of the story.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you all next time! Fare thee well!**


	18. Of Manhunts and New Looks

**I have returned! Now we're getting into the swing of things and where everything starts coming together. Read on my pretties! Read on! Oh my! I just realized that I haven't mention the gargoyles for several chapters! They make an appearance in this one though. I really hope I haven't made them too annoying. I know I stuck with their movie versions in the chapter A Master and His Charge but from the other chapters where they appeared I hope I've made them a little better.**

**Special thanks to . . .**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**CityCat**

**grapejuice101**

**SummertimeRose**

**Nicole**

**Anne**

**Whatever-chan**

**Istric**

**Ariella and Daniella**

**Chapter Eighteen**

** Of Manhunts and New Looks**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He awoke to harsh shouting, the sound of splintering wood, and the wailing of women and children. Quasi, who had never heard such distraught and panic voices before, sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Something terribly wrong. Once his sight was clear, he rose from his bed and dashed to the window in front of his worktable. He froze, the sight before him sending a jolt of terror through his heart. His master was astride his black steed with a large group of soldiers surrounding him, several of them were kicking in doors of several Parisians' homes and dragging gypsy refugees from them.

"Where is the gypsy Esmeralda?!" His master bellowed at five gypsies who his soldiers had clamped in irons. "I will give ten shillings as payment to the one who leads to her arrest."

Not one of them gave an answer to his demand. Instead, they remained silent and kept their heads bowed. Just by their actions, Quasi could tell they would not give Frollo what he wanted. They would never betray one of their own.

At seeing their refusal and defiance, the judge jerked his steeds reins about and threw out an arm. "Take them to the Palace of Justice! If they will not to speak then I will find other methods!"

Several guards came forward and forced the gypsies to march in the direction of the Palace, one guard went as far as shoving one man so hard he stumbled and fell to the ground. The guard shouted for the man to get up, roughly forced him to his feet, and shoved him forward again. This time however, the gypsy did not fall again. Quasi had never seen his master in such a desperate frenzy before. It was almost as if he was possessed by something! Why? Why did he want Esmeralda so? What had she done that warranted this behavior from him?

"Hey Quasi, what's happening?"

He turned round just in time to see Hugo, Victor, and Laverne hopping towards him, looks of concern and uneasiness stood out upon their stone faces. He glanced back out the slit in the tower just in time to see his master moving on down a side street and disappearing around a corner. It was then that Quasi realized that Frollo was not going to give up searching for her. He was going to find Esmeralda one way or another.

"Master," Quasi explained in hushed tones, his musical voice strained. "He's looking for Esmeralda."

"Oh my!" Victor exclaimed, his already lines of worry deepening.

"Not good." Hugo's pale, stony complexion turned even a whiter shade.

Laverne kept her expression calm, but Quasi could tell by the look in her eyes that she was worried also.

"Has he found any sight of her?" She asked.

"No." He shook his head, but that fact alone was not enough to comfort him. "Not yet anyway."

"Don't worry Quasi," Hugo came up and patted him reassuringly on his elbow. "If there's one thing about Esmeralda, it's that she's smart enough to outwit the guards. She'll be alright. You'll see."

"You really think so?" Quasi asked anxiously, ringing his hands out of habit.

Laverne and Victor shared a glance, then the elderly gargoyle said confidently, "I don't know anyone else who could. She's lived on the street her whole life Quasi, I don't think she's going to let a couple of guards get in her way."

He looked back and forth between his three friends then nodded in agreement. "You're right of course. I'm sure she's safe now."

Victor suddenly frowned and hopped over to the slit so he could look out over the square.

"What's wrong Victor?" Asked Laverne, a puzzled expression crossing her face.

Victor shook his head and continued looking about as if searching for something.

"Vic?" Hugo, who wasn't one to worry about the the gargoyle, too looked concerned. "What're you looking for?"

"Which one do you remember is Sophia's house?" Victor asked quickly, still searching. "I can't seem to recall."

"Sophia's house?" Quasi didn't understand. Was not Esmeralda in the most danger at the moment? Sophia was safe. Wasn't she?

Suddenly the night he helped Esmeralda escape came flooding through his memories and flashes of the two guards conversation came to mind. His master was still after her. He wasn't perusing her as hard as Esmeralda, but he was going to be looking for the young redhead nonetheless. Quasi felt as if his whole stomach had turned to ice. This was not good. Not good at all! Without so much as a passing word to his stone friends, he bolted across the room to a different window. Hadn't Sophia once shone him where her house was from up here? If he recalled correctly, it was the third house on the right just passed the stone bridge.

"There!" He cried, pointing out a small cottage not far down from Pascal's bakery. "That one is her's, I am sure of it!"

She had to be safe. She just had to be. After what transpired last night, he had to see her again! He had to apologize for not keeping his word to her! He could hope and pray that Esmeralda would be alright, but Sophia . . . he had to be sure that his master did not _find_ her! For if he did . . . Quasi physically shuddered, he couldn't think like that. He wouldn't think like that!

"Oh Sophia," Quasi pleaded softly. "Please be safe."

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She woke up to the sound of someone pounding hard against the front door. The sudden noise startled her so badly that she tumbled out of her bed and onto the hard wooden floor of her room.

"Owww," She groaned, still too tired from the night before to pick herself up.

However, the person on the other side of the front door wasn't letting up anytime soon. Another round of persistent knocks pounded against the wooden door, almost threatening to break it down if someone did not answer it so. Sophia sighed from her place on the floor and pushed herself up, it looked like it was down to her to answer whoever it was. She grabbed her robe and drew it around herself, tying the front close. She slipped on her shoes and began to make her way downstairs, the knocks on the door by now were becoming more and more frantic.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She muttered irritably to herself as she reached the door.

Goodness! Didn't this person understand the meaning of patience? Another frantic knock answered her unspoken question and the young redhead had just about enough out of the person on the other side of the door.

"Good Lord in heaven!" Sophia exclaimed angrily, gripping the handle and throwing open the door in a flourish. "What in God's holy name do you . . . ?"

"Sophia!"

She blinked owlishly, for standing on her doorstep was her husband to be himself! Phoebus' brow was drenched in sweat and his face was red from what to be the cause of running a long distance. This time around, he wore his golden helm upon his head and his sword was strapped securely about his waist. He leaned heavily against the frame of the door as if he no longer had the strength to hold himself upright. He looked . . . downright exhausted!

"Phoebus?!" Of all the people to come to her door at this time, her fiance was not the one she had in mind. "What on earth . . . ?"

"Thank heaven . . above," He gasped, trying to get a good breath in. "You're still . . . here."

If she was confused before, now she was downright bewildered. "Of course I'm still here!" She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "Just what in the world has gotten . . . ?"

Before she could finish what she was going to say to the great idiot, Phoebus suddenly shot forward and shoved her inside. He quickly followed, shutting the door behind him and placing a wooden plank into the slot that covered the door. Once the door was blocked, the golden haired man gave a tired huff and leaned his back against the wood. Sophia, who had been shoved so hard that she had fallen, picked herself up from the floor and brushed off the front of her robe.

"Alright you!" She glowered, marching up to him and poking the man in the middle of his armored chest. "Just what the heck was that all about?!"

"Must you shout?" Phoebus asked tiredly, rubbing his temples with his gloved hands. "You sure are loud for so early in the morning."

"And who's fault do you think that is?!" Sophia shouted, not caring at all if he had a headache. "You're the one who was getting ready to break down the door!"

"Well if you had answered it earlier I wouldn't have had to hit it harder!" He shot back, his hazel eyes flashing in anger.

Sophia, who had quite enough of her share of angered men, visibly flinched and took a step away from him. Fear flashed through her and for some reason, she feared he would strike her. Immediately, Phoebus' eyes softened and he turned his head away in shame and guilt.

"I apologize, Sophia." His voice was almost inaudible and he refused to met her eyes. "I shouldn't have behaved in such a fashion. That was wrong of me."

At his remorseful expression and apology, the young redhead tentatively stepped forward and wiped the sweat from his tanned brow with the sleeve of her robe. His pupil shifted so he could see her clearly from the corner of his eye. There was sorrow in that eye, sorrow and even, a bit of fear. Fear, something that Sophia had never seen in his face before.

"Phoebus?" She spoke gently and softly, trying to help him in anyway she could. "What is wrong? Has something happened?"

At first, he didn't answer her. He just looked at the floor with an expression that conveyed that he wanted nothing more for the floor beneath him to open up and swallow him whole. He looked so vulnerable, like a child scared of a thunderstorm. Sophia didn't have a clue what was wrong, but it was severe enough for Phoebus to come barging to her front door in search for her.

"He's after her," She barely caught his words they were so soft. "Esmeralda's in great danger. I-I don't know where she is or h-how to find her."

"Oh Phoebus," She gently guided him over to the steps and helped him sit down. "There, how about I get you some tea. Stay there, I won't be long."

After making sure he understood, Sophia rushed into the kitchen and began to prepare two cups of hot tea. While she was going about, she found a note by her mother telling her she would be over at Pascal's helping out with the baking. When the tea was finally finished, she brought out the two cups and handed one to Phoebus who took it as if he was in a trance. The young redhead settled down beside him and took a sip.

"Now," She began carefully. "Let's start at the beginning. What's going on out there?"

Phoebus took a tentative sip of the tea before answering, "Frollo's on an all out manhunt for you two. He's searching all of Paris for any place Esmeralda could be in hiding but so far, he hasn't found a trace of her."

Sophia let the news sink in gradually. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Well," She took a deep breath in the effort to calm her own nerves. "At least she's somewhere safe. She has to be if he hasn't found her yet."

"I suppose you're right," The Captain said slowly, swishing around the liquid within the cup. "If Frollo hasn't had any luck so far then I doubt he'll ever find her. She's quite good at that, not being able to be found unless she wants to."

Sophia smiled encouragingly, "Exactly. She'll be fine Phoebus, I'm sure of it."

He turned his head, met her bright, blue gaze, and smiled in return. "Quasi's sure lucky to have someone like you. You have more patience than many of the women I've ever met."

She blushed and looked down into her teacup as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "I don't know about _that_."

"Well," Phoebus laughed goodheartedly, "Thank you for the tea, but there was another reason I came to see you."

"Another reason?" Sophia asked. "What other reason?"

"To warn you," His features hardened and suddenly, he looked every bit the trained soldier that he was. "Frollo's after you as well. You need to get to Notre Dame and stay there. There, at least, Frollo can't touch you."

"But how?" She gestured down at herself in exasperation. "The guards will recognize me the moment I step outside the door. I won't be able to get even close to the cathedral."

"Then you'll have to be someone else," Phoebus stated calmly. "With that short hair of yours, a pair of hose, and a cap, I'm sure you can pull off the appearance of a street urchin perfectly."

Sophia returned her gaze to her tea and contemplated her options. It was either that or she risked going out there as she was now. She had to admit, Phoebus's plan could work. It was a very good thing she was built the way she was and not some thin twig of a girl. Plus, her hair was an added bonus, even if she didn't have a cap to hide her face it wouldn't make too much of a difference. In any case, she had to try.

"Stay here," Sophia suddenly jumped to her feet and handed over her teacup. "I think I can alter a pair of my father's hose and tunic and I'm pretty sure he has a cap somewhere. I'll see what I can find."

She rushed up the stairs and went into her parent's room, searching for her father's chest of clothes. She found it sitting at the foot of the bed and quickly began rummaging through it to find what she needed. In the end, she found an old patched, red tunic that hung down to her knees and a pair of hose that was in relatively good condition. She continued to search for a cap and in the process, found a black belt to buckle around the tunic. Sophia had to dig to the bottom of the chest before she found the old brown cap Jean used to wear.

She smiled down at the bundle of clothes she had piled next to the trunk and couldn't help but laugh. This, is a strange way, was going to be sort of fun! She closed the lid of the trunk, picked up her bundle, and filed out of the room, kicking the door closed with her foot. She pushed opened the door to her own room and set to work on her disguise. Frollo was never going to know it was her, not when she was finished!

A half hour later, Sophia carefully made her way downstairs only shocked to find that Phoebus was no longer sitting on the steps. She raced down the remainder of the stairs and searched the den. He wasn't there. She checked the dinning room. He wasn't there either! That left . . . The young redhead bolted for the kitchen only to stop short at the sight she saw. Phoebus, Captain of the King's Archers, was sitting on a stool and _washing_ the teacups in a bucket of cool water! Never in her life did she imagine a _man_ washing anything!

She smirked, "Just what the heck are you doing?"

"Whoa!" Phoebus gave a start, nearly dropping the teacup that was in his hand and almost falling off the stool. "Don't do that to me So-"

He paused, looking at her as if he'd never seen her before in his life. Then, he smiled a great big smile and laughed, "That tunic clashes with your hair!"

Sophia cracked a grin of her own, 'That's the point, Phoebus. Men have no sense of style."

Phoebus' face suddenly froze and he gave her a wounded look. "That's not very ladylike."

"Again, that's the point," She shook her head at him. "I'm not a lady remember? I'm a street urchin."

"Have you ever thought about theater?" He asked, sounding rather impressed. "You get into character really fast and really well."

"I'll think about it," The young redhead smirked. "But let's get through this first."

"Agreed," Phoebus nodded in agreement, standing up and looking her over closely. "You really to look like a lad. Very much so indeed."

"Thanks," Sophia said dryly, not really thrilled that he was looking her over like that. "But I don't think we have the luxury to sit around and discuss how masculine I look."

"Right," He jerked away from her and held up his hands in peace. "Sorry!"

She rolled her eyes, "Be careful out there Phoebus." Then her eyes softened and she gave him a sad smile, "I may not really be marrying you, but you're a good man. Don't let Frollo kill you for helping me, okay?"

"And you Miss," Phoebus' began, taking her hand a placing a small kiss upon it. "Are one of the most charming and self-reliant young women I have ever had the fortune of knowing. Be careful out there and try not to get caught. Be a right shame if Frollo found you now."

Sophia blushed crimson, it was the first time a man actually complimented on her true strengths and talents. It was not something she was used to, but, coming from Phoebus, it meant a lot to her. He was a truly wonderful friend.

"Well," She paused, looking around her kitchen and remembering all the memories she had of her father there. "I better be going."

"Be careful Sophia." Phoebus warned, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. "You're still my bride to be, don't ruin that pretty face of yours."

She humphed. "And don't you go doing anything rash."

"Deal."

"Deal."

The young redhead turned and walked over to the kitchen door, the only other exit in the house besides the front door. She gave Phoebus an encouraging smile, blew him a playful kiss, and wrenched open the door and disappeared into the streets of Paris.


	19. Feelings Unheard

**Special thanks to . . .**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi for being my 50th reviewer!**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Feelings Unheard**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Getting passed Frollo's guards proved to be far easier than she expected. In fact, she walked right on by several groups without being looked at twice! It certainly had its advantages, being boyish. Sophia clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. This was sort of fun! In a life threatening sort of way. Either way, she was still making a fool out of Frollo. Esmeralda wasn't the only one who could hide in plain sight! Taking on a more serious approach to current situation, Sophia carefully made her way through the back alleys of Pairs in order to avoid any unnecessary encounters with the soldiers. She didn't need to cause even more trouble for herself. Rounding a corner, the young redhead came up on Notre Dame's south side. Still remaining in the shadows of the shop off to her right, she quickly checked for guards in either direction. Upon finding none, she darted forward as fast as her short legs could carry her.

So far so good.

She leaned forward against the aged wood of the door, trying to catch her breath and also in the effort to calm her nerves. After a few deep breaths, Sophia took the handle and slipped inside as quickly as she could, closing the door solidly behind her. She was safe now. Frollo couldn't touch her. She only prayed that Phoebus would fair as well as she had because an uneasy feeling seemed to be surrounding the Captain. She hoped it was just the tea.

"Right," She whispered to herself, new determination filling her. "Let's find Quasi."

The way to the south bell tower was a path she knew well. So very well in fact that she was sure she could walk it blindfolded! She didn't need to think or concentrate on where she was going, it was like knowing where her house was. Second nature. Maybe, it had to do with the person who lived there. Like he had an invisible string attached to her and was always pulling her towards him. Sophia shook her head. This was not the time for that! She stopped in front of Quasi's tower door, a feeling of apprehension filling her. Memories of what happened the night before came flooding back to her. The pain of realizing Quasi's growing affection for Esmeralda, the intense jealousy that seemed to be burning her from the inside out, and of course, the chase she started.

He had practically _begged_ her to stop and yet, still she ran from him. How he must be feeling right now! How confused and torn! She had never in her life fled from _him! _She just . . couldn't face him! She had been so hurt, so _afraid_, that she couldn't let him see the uncertainty that she knew was in her eyes! It was her way of protecting herself, not that Quasi would ever hurt her. At least, not physically anyway. She was trying to protect her heart! Her very fragile heart. On the outside she may seem strong enough to handle it, but on the inside . . what she truly felt was completely different.

She didn't want Quasi to love Esmeralda! She wanted him to love _her! _She wanted to be the one who held his heart, his affection! Sure, she would put up a brave face and tell him to go after Esmeralda, if that was who he truly loved. But, it would hurt! It would hurt and deep in her heart she would wish he had chosen _her_ instead! Was she a horrible person for wishing that? Was it wrong for her to be wanted by him, of all people? She just didn't know what to do! Act and find out that it was all for not or put it away in her heart and let him go? Why couldn't the answer be easy?! She was weak, very weak. She was not strong like Esmeralda was. She was not at all like her, no matter how much she wished she could be. She could never compare to someone like her. Ever!

Sophia pulled herself away from the small door, she was being a coward and she knew it. But she was scared! Scared of revealing her true feelings, scared of being rejected by the one person who knew her best, and scared of having to follow through with _actually_ marrying Phoebus if she couldn't win Quasi's heart. The young redhead paused for a moment, staring at the door, before turning away completely and preparing to walk away. The door to the tower was suddenly flown open so hard that she thought it had been ripped from its iron hinges. She whirled about at the loud commotion and found she was face to face with the one person who held her very heart in his giant, but gentle hands. They were practically nose to nose they were so close!

"Quasi?"

"S-Sophia?"

They stared at each other, each wearing a look of pure shock and yet, neither of them moved. It was as if they were both caught in their own time. A time that now ceased to move forward or backward. They just continued to stare at the other, eye contact never breaking for a second.

"How did you know it was me?" She wasn't sure how she managed the words, but she did.

"I would know you anywhere Sophia." He answered, his bell-like voice so soft that she barely caught the words. "No matter what you wear, I will always know who you are."

And that was all it took. Tears welled up from the corners of her eyes and her body reacted on its own accord. Suddenly, her arms were around his neck and her face was pressed into his right shoulder. Her shoulders began to shake and all the frustration, jealousy, anger, hurt, pain, love just came out at once. Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks, soaking through Quasi's green tunic and drenching him. She sobbed. Hard. Harder than even at her own father's funeral. Harder than she ever cried before in her life. She was feeling such an overwhelming amount of emotion that she just couldn't keep it all bottled up any longer.

Her legs gave out, no longer strong enough to support her weight. But, she did not fall. Quasi wrapped his arms around her and shifted her gently into his arms. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Just his gentle embrace was all she needed right now, that protective circle that always seemed to surround her when he held her. She barely felt his movements as he carried her inside and up to his loft, only taking notice when suddenly he sat down on his small bed. But, he did not remove her from his arms. It was as if, he needed to hold her too. Eventually, the tears stopped and her breathing evened out, though a stray sob or two still made its way passed her lips.

"S-Sophia?" Quasi's voice sounded slightly off; it did not have its normal twinkling.

She quickly wiped the tears from her face with the long sleeve of her father's tunic, his familiar scent calming her. "Y-yes, Quasi?"

"I-I," He hesitated, as if he didn't know how to say what he was trying to say. "I am so _sorry!_"

His voice came out broken and distraught, his arms tightened around the young redhead, and her head was suddenly nestled under his chin. Why was he apologizing? Again?! Why did everything about these two days suddenly revolve around apologies and tears? What could he have done that warranted the amount of anguish that surged through his tones?! Sophia tried to wiggle her head out from under his chin to look him in the eyes, but the sheer amount of strength he was using made it impossible for her to do so.

"Q-Quasi," She struggled to see his face, but couldn't. "W-why . . . ?"

Something wet hit her hair. Instantly, Sophia became stone still in both shock and concern. Quasi was crying! _Crying!_ She hadn't seen him shed tears since they were thirteen! Now she knew something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong! What could have caused . . . ?

"Quasi talk to me," She encouraged, gently at first. But when he did not respond, her tone became slightly firmer. "Quasi! Tell me what is wrong!"

"I-it is my fault," He murmured, sobs of his own racking his frame. "All my f-fault."

"W-what do you mean your fault?" She didn't understand.

How could any of this be _his_ fault? Wasn't she the one who couldn't get her act together? Wasn't she the one holding everything back? After enough struggling, Sophia finally freed herself from Quasi's stronghold and moved to stand in front of him. He bowed his head and refused to met her gaze but she wasn't having it. She cupped her hands under his jawbone and gently forced him to look at her. His face was stained with tears and the sorrowful expression in his eyes was almost enough for her to breakdown again. But, she held it together. Quasi needed _her_ to be the strong one now.

"I-I broke my promise." It came out as a broken, half-sobbed whisper of pain.

Sophia, still confused as ever, sighed softly and gently wiped away his tears. "What promise Quasi?"

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head, then shifted to one of complete dejection. "You do not remember."

"Remember what Quasi?" Now she was really confused. What didn't she remember? "What don't I remember?"

"The promise I made to you." He looked away from her shamefully, as if he didn't deserve to look at her. "When you collapsed, I-I placed you here," He gestured to his bed. "But you whispered something in your sleep. Y-you . . you did not want me to leave you and I-," He faltered, trying to stem the tears that shined in his sky blue orbs. "I _promised_ you I would not, but I did!"

Sophia stood there rooted to the spot. Quasi was beating himself up because he promised her he wouldn't leave her when she was unconscious? He was upset because he did not keep his word to her? As truly touched that he took his word so seriously, she didn't feel that this kind of promise was worthy of him being so distraught over. So he wasn't right there beside her when she came too, he was still _in_ the tower. _That_ she remembered. He was singing that beautiful song, even if it wasn't for her. Waking up to the sound of _his_ voice was never something she could ever complain about.

"Oh Quasi," She said softly, gently turning his head back towards her so he could look at her. "That's nothing to beat yourself over. Besides, you were in the tower when I woke up. I heard you singing."

Shock and embarrassment crossed his face, turning his cheeks a flaming red. "Y-you heard that?"

She nodded in enthusiasm, a great smile spreading across her face. "Yes I did. Now, why would you never let me hear you sing before? You have a beautiful voice you know."

"You really think so?" He asked hopefully, his eyes sparkling.

"I _know_ so." Sophia offered him her hand to which he slowly took. She helped him to his feet and embraced him tightly. "Don't you ever think that you don't. Now," She pulled her head back so she could see him clearly. "Why all this fuss over a promise? Did you think I'd be angry or upset?"

Now it was Quasi's turn to look puzzled. "Is that not the reason you left the tower last night? Because I did not keep my word?"

Realization dawned on her. Quasi thought that because he didn't keep his promise to her was the whole reason she fled from him! He thought she was angry and hurt because he wasn't by her side when she woke up! Burning guilt hit her hard in the gut. How on earth could she explain the _real_ reason behind her abnormal behavior that night?

"Quasi, that's not it," She shook her head firmly. "I-"

She trailed off and turned her head away from him. Now it was coming down to it. Tell him or not to tell him? She didn't know if she could do this! This wasn't the way she imagined telling him! What about Esmeralda? What were he's feelings on _her _exactly?! Before Sophia could even ask, the tower to the tower flew open and an all too familiar voice called out.

"Quasi?! Quasimodo!"

Sophia felt her blood ran cold. Though, it was not because of Esmeralda herself (_in truth, Sophia was glad to find that she had escaped Frollo's vain attempt to find her_) or that she had bad timing (_which she did_), but rather because of the tone of her voice. There was something very wrong about it. It was urgent and slightly demanding. She and Quasi shared a concerned look between the before racing to the edge of the platform to see what was the matter. If her blood had been cold before, now, it was frozen solid.

There, lying in the arms of a rather burly gypsy man, was the limp and very pale form of Phoebus de Chateaupers.

"_Phoebus!_"

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

Never before did a man's name sound like a curse. What made it all the worse was the way the man's name sounded on _her_ lips. Sophia had cried his name with such _anguish_ that Quasi felt his blood boil and he curled his hands tightly around the banister to prevent himself from striking out at something. He recognized him as the man who saved Esmeralda and Sophia from being taken to the Palace of Justice and from the time Quasi had stopped him in his search for the two girls. The question was, how did Sophia know him? When did she spend enough time with this man to be so concerned for him?

He didn't like the familiarity in which Sophia spoke his name and he didn't like the look of concern and shock that was on her beautiful face. Nor did he like the way her features paled at seeing Phoebus' limp and sickly form. He truly did not look well at all. Quasi looked from Sophia to the man who was lying in the arms of a different man. Even if he did not approve of the way Sophia was gazing at him, he knew he could not turn him away in anger or spite.

"Bring him here!" He called to Esmeralda, gesturing for them to come up. "I will prepare a place for him."

Esmeralda and her gypsy comrade wasted no time and reached the top of the stairs just as Quasi went to pull back the covers of his bed. He looked up from his task to find Sophia standing in the entrance flap; a bowl, small cloth, and a bottle of wine in her hands. If it was possible, she had paled even more and she was shaking. Badly.

"Sophia," He began, trying in some way, shape, or form to give her comfort.

He didn't know what to do or what to say. He did not want to give her false hope and yet, she looked so vulnerable. His heart tightened to the point it was almost unbearable. He didn't like the fact that Phoebus had cause such a reaction out of her. He didn't want to see her so upset and worried. And for some reason, he didn't want her to be so over _him_. Quasi opened his mouth to say something else but he was cut off when Esmeralda and her friend brought Phoebus into the tent. He stepped out of the way so the ebony haired woman could tend to the golden haired man, who, once he was laid down, looked even worse in the glow of the candlelight.

"What happened to him?" Sophia's voice was so quiet that he almost did not catch her words.

He watched as the young redhead moved to Phoebus' other side and kneel beside him. Quasi felt his heart give another painful twitch. Why did it hurt so much to see her by his side? Why did he feel as if he lost a part of himself? Why did he feel such anger at the man lying in his bed?

"Frollo's men shot him as he saved the miller and his family from being burned alive." Esmeralda explained, pulling a thread and needle from within the depths of the dark cloak she wore around her shoulders.

Sophia's head jerked up so violently, he feared she had hurt herself.

"What?" Again, her voice was quiet and yet, there was such fear in her tones! "Esmeralda, what happened?"

Quasi could listen no longer! He could not be in the same room as the man who now lay upon his bed and held such a hold upon the young redhead. He could not bare to see the pain and fear on her face or in her voice a moment longer. Without so much as a word or sound, he quietly left the tent and drifted over to his worktable. He sat down upon a small stool and rested his chin on his hands. Why was his heart in such terrible pain?! Why did it feel as if someone had plunged their hand into his chest and ripped out his heart?! Why did feel such hate and anger towards Phoebus? Should he not be happy? Should he not be pleased that Sophia was no longer alone in the world?

She cared for the golden haired man, Quasi could see it plain as day. But, even so, then why did he hate seeing them together? If this was her choice, then why could he not bring himself to be happy? He shook his head in the effort to rid himself of these overwhelming feelings and instead, drew his attention to the carvings in front of him. Only one held any real significance to him. One who had wormed her way into the tight confounds of his heart and mind.

Hidden in the shadows of his hand-carved bell tower, was a tiny figure that no one would be able to see at first glance. The carving was made of willow, a very pale wood that closely resembled the original's pale skin and a mob of curly, red hair was placed neatly on the figure's head. The eyes were a painted pale blue and several light brown dots covered the face in order to imitate freckles. The figure wore a simple emerald green dress that complemented the eyes and hair. The position of the arms and hands was a unique and very difficult one to carve. This figure was the only one of it's kind to have its hands clasped behind them and also was the only one that was rising up on tiptoe. A beautiful, bright smile, painted with such care, brought the whole piece together.

Quasi sighed in remembrance of the very day he carved Sophia's lookalike. He had just turned thirteen and by that time his carvings had greatly improved in skill and detail. He decided he wanted to do Sophia's figure as he next project, but had no idea where to start. What position did he want her in? How should he go about her face? What color blue were her eyes exactly? What wood was best for her skin? It was questions like those that he continued to ponder and mull over. He went through so many drafts and dry runs that he almost ran out of wood.

About a week or so after he tried so hard to carve her, he was ready to give up. He just wasn't capturing who she _was! _It didn't matter how much like the carving _looked_ like her, something about it was wrong every time. Something he could not place. Eventually, through all his frustration, Sophia herself ended up helping him with the carving. Not that she knew it at the time. She had noticed one day that he hadn't carved anything recently and asked accordingly. He told he was trying to capture this one person's image, but it wasn't turning out the way he needed it to. And it was then, Sophia did something that she always did when she needed to think. She rose up on her tiptoes, clasped her hands behind her, titled her head slightly to the left, and scrunched up her mouth in a quizzical expression.

She did this quite a lot because things always puzzled her. She liked to think, she liked to read, she liked to be on the search for something, and she, at heart, was a _curious_ person! She enjoyed learning about things and never wanted to _stop_ learning them. Sophia came up with all sorts of suggestions that day for his carving, but he had all he needed. He worked throughout the night, stopping only once he was completely satisfied with the figure. When he had finally finished the carving, painting, hair, and clothing, the figure was truly Sophia! It captured the true nature of her spirit, that ball of light that shone with color and kindness and knowledge.

For one reason or another, Quasi hid Sophia's carving in the shadows of the miniature bell tower, not far from his own figure who rested in its usual spot. He kept her there because she was his secret friend and because, in his mind, she didn't belong on the table with all the others. She was different! The replicas of the townspeople were just that, replicas. Therefore, they had no more knowledge of him as their counterparts had. They had never met him nor would they ever, and that's what made Sophia different. She knew him! Really knew him! So he hid her within the bell tower, not as a prisoner, but rather, because she was apart of his world!

But there was one other reason. His master. Frollo knew every figure that Quasi ever carved and if he ever saw Sophia's, he would conclude that this particular one meant something more than just a doll. This was because her carving had so much more detail and character, that his master would immediately become suspicious of both the carving, and the person she represented. He couldn't risk his master destroying or taking the figure from him or having Sophia's life endangered because he was careless.

Very gingerly, Quasi lifted Sophia's carving from it's hiding place and set it down in front of him. He placed his chin back over his hands and gazed into the figure's face. He needed to understand what exactly he was feeling. He cared about her greatly, that much he knew and could understand, they were friends after all. But, was the intensity in which he felt for her different? Was it wrong? Just now, he had been angry at Phoebus because of the worry and fear he cause her. He was upset that she looked at the golden haired man with such concern and that he was the one in her center focus. Why was that? He had no just cause to be angry or upset, Sophia was a naturally caring woman. She would have done the same thing if it was someone else.

_'Even if it was me?'_

He thought about that for a moment. The young redhead always seemed to be worried about him in one way or the other. She worried if he was warm enough at night, if he getting enough to eat, or if Frollo had called him a monster again. She was always there with something, a fresh loaf of bread, a blanket she had laying around at home, and certainly had a few choice words for his master. She was constantly there to pick him up whenever he fell short. He hated being a burden to her! He didn't want her going out of her way to help him all the time. What if she needed the bread or blanket? What about her? Was she hungry? Was she cold?

Quasi let out a grunt of frustration and let his head fall on top of his hands. He was just going in circles! He was trying to figure out _his_ feelings for _her_, not the other way around! He was making her sound like she was in _love_ with him! He felt his heart nearly stop. Love. Love? He had heard and seen it, or at least, what looked liked love. Mothers love their children. Fathers loved their children. The young couples he'd seen walking in the moonlight. The kisses of all kinds shared between mother and son, father and daughter, young woman and young man, mother and father, and so on and so on. But, Sophia in love . . . with _him?_

Quasi's hands began to shake violently. No. No! It couldn't be! It wasn't possible! He was a monster! Surely she must know that! He wasn't normal! No one had ever _loved_ him, not even his own parents! They abandoned him! He had never been wanted by anyone! So why . . ? How . . ? He couldn't! Even if she did, he could never condemn her to this kind of life! His master was pursuing her and Esmeralda! He could never take Sophia away from the life she had always known! He wasn't worth it! She deserved to be with someone who lived on the outside! With someone normal! Someone who could take care and provide for her! What skills did he possess? The only valuable skills he had were carpentry and bell ringing. He couldn't provide for her! He couldn't give her what she needed or deserved! He wasn't _worth_ loving! He _was_ nothing!

"Quasi?"

He started at the sound of her voice, knocking over her lookalike and nearly falling off the stool completely. She was standing a few feet behind him, the tent flap was closed giving Phoebus enough privacy to rest. Color had returned to her face again, no longer looking like she fell in a barrel of flour. She still wore her father's brown cap which proved to be too large and covered the right side of her face. Looking at her now, even dressed as a boy, she still looked pretty. He shook his head. What was wrong with him? Didn't he just tell himself it was pointless? She was better off with some handsome gentleman who had the skills and means to care for her. She could not be _his_.

"Is he well?" It was the first thing Quasi could think of, he needed to distract himself.

Sophia's face brighten a little, but a grim expression still remained. "His heart was nearly pierced by an arrow. Esmeralda stitched him up fairly nicely, but he needs rest right now."

"That is," He paused, not really sure what he thought. If he really had her welfare in mind, then why was he so angry that she was concerned for the Captain. _He_ was certainly an appropriate choice of husband. More than he himself could ever hope to be. "Good news. I hope his recovery is swift."

He turned his gaze to the floor and tried to sort out his feelings again. Did he care for Sophia more than a friend or not? Did he . . . did he _love_ her? Yes? Or no?

"I told him not to do anything rash." Sophia's voice came out harsh and berating, but it seemed more directed at herself than at Phoebus.

Quasi looked at her with shock and surprise. _She_ told the Captain not to do anything rash?! When? How? Why did she care if he risked his life or not?! Why did it matter to her?!

"What do you mean?" He rose from his stool and slowly approached the young redhead. He had to know. He needed to know! "Sophia, the way you looked at him . . ."

"I-I . ." The young woman reeled backwards, her bright blue eyes wide in both bewilderment and horror. "I just meant . . Quasi, I'm . . well . . I'm engaged to him for one."

It was as if someone had punched him in the gut. He sputtered and stumbled backwards. His heart stopped and all the blood drained from his face. E-engaged? Engaged?! The woman he was possibly in _love_ with was engaged to _him?! _He felt his heart shatter. So, she did not feel the same after all. It was all just wishful thinking on his part. He should have known. He should have known that she could never love him!

"Quasi, wait!" Suddenly Sophia was there, inches away from him, holding onto his shoulders with a grip so strong he wasn't sure if even _he_ could break it. "Listen to me! Give me a chance to explain!"

"Explain what?!" He barked harshly at her, his hurt and sorrow turning into anger. "There is nothing to explain! You do not need to justify yourself, I see enough!"

He moved placed his hands around her wrists, prepared to gently remove them from his shoulders but Sophia had other plans.

"No you don't!" He jerked his head back, his eyes meeting her own, which were now ablaze with so many different emotions that he couldn't tell what exactly she was feeling. "The only reason I agreed to it was to get mother off my back! Don't you get it Quasi?!"

Quasi just stood there like a deer in the sights of an arrow. His mind was blank. He couldn't think! He couldn't act! The only thing he could do, was listen. Sophia gently guided him to his stool and had him sit down, never removing her hands from his shoulders.

Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks now and when she spoke again, her voice trembled with the weight of whatever it was she was feeling. "I should have told you yesterday when you asked if I was alright. The reason why I wasn't around for the past week was because mother's been trying to marry me off. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to encourage it. I didn't want you to tell me to marry someone I didn't know!"

He blinked owlishly. Did this mean . . ? Sophia was _not_ in love with Phoebus? Then, yesterday, when she told him it wasn't important . . she was hiding the fact her mother was forcing her into courtship! She didn't tell him because she didn't want him to encourage it? Encourage wha-. Then, it hit him. She did not want his acceptance! She did not want him to tell her it was alright because it wasn't! It wasn't what she wanted! Then . . . if that was not what she truly wanted, what was?

"Sophia, I-I do not under_stand!_" He cried, unable to see her motives clearly.

Why could she not tell him what she wanted? If it was not Phoebus who held her heart, than who? He could see the reasoning behind pretending to be engaged, but did not _understand_ why. There must be more to it than just wanting her mother to leave her be. He watched, so deeply confused, as the young redhead got down on both knees and took his disfigured face gently in her tiny hands. Her thumbs brushing over his skin with a featherlight touch, wiping away a stray tear or two that he didn't know he shed.

"I suppose I haven't been very clear, have I?" She whispered softly, a small giggle slipping passed her lips. She closed her eyes and let her head forward, softly colliding with his breastbone, her hands falling limply to her sides. "Quasi, t-the one who's been in my heart all this time, it's-"

Esmeralda's ever faithful companion could not have picked a worst time than this to cry out a long, and very loud, warning bleat. Both Quasi and Sophia jerked their heads upward, the top of her head nearly colliding with his chin.

"What is it Djali?" Sophia asked, rising to her feet and rushing over to the slit in the tower that served as a window. How she knew the goat's name, Quasi did not know but followed after her, not a step behind. "What's wro-"

He felt his heart catch in his throat. As they leaned out the slit in the tower, he could see clear as day his master's carriage and several guards in front of Notre Dame. Frollo stepped out of the iron contraption and tilted his head back to look up at the bell tower. Using every ounce of his agility, Quasi threw out an arm and caught Sophia around the middle, dragging her swiftly from the window and into the safety of the shadows. At the sound of Djali's bleat, Esmeralda and her other gypsy companion emerged from the tent.

"You must go," He spoke quickly, turning to the gypsy woman and her friend. "Now! Master is coming!"

In a mad rush, everyone made their way down the stairs and towards the door to the tower. Quasi used his hands to grip each of the railing and propel himself down the stairs using only his arms. He could run on smooth surfaces like a floor, but running down steps was more difficult than he would have liked. Once everyone was by the door (_except Phoebus who was out cold in the tent_), last exchanges were made.

"Go down the south tower steps," He explained, coming forward to tie Esmeralda's cloak around her. "He will be coming up from the north. Use the exit on the far west side, no one ever goes in or out from there."

"Thank you so much my friend." Esmeralda clasped his hand in both of hers before turning to the goat and her friend. "Come, we must leave." As all three of them fled through the door, the ebony haired woman stopped, then turned back and addressed the young redhead. "Use it wisely, Sophia."

Then she was gone. Quasi turned to ask the young redhead what Esmeralda meant, but she only shook her head and fled back up the stairs.

"He'll be here in a few minutes! We have to hide Phoebus!"

Ignoring the burning feeling that resurfaced from her saying the man's name again, Quasi followed her up and prayed they would have enough time to stash him somewhere. He also hoped to discover who held Sophia's true affections. The thought of someone else in her life was driving him on the verge of insanity!

**First off, sorry for not posting sooner. My internet decided that it didn't like me anymore and shut off on me. Okay, with that out of the way, how was this chapter? I really spent quite a bit of time on it and I hope it won over many hearts. They still haven't confessed to each other, but they are now several steps closer. For the record, I planned it this way. I didn't want it to suddenly go out and BAM! there you go, they love each other, now to get rid of Frollo.**

**No! I didn't want my story to be like so many others that I read. You want to know a secret? The whole reason I made a sequel of this magnitude was to write something that expanded in a completely diffirent direction than all the other stories. I wanted to write something that caught people's interest and have them say**

**"Oh, what you look at that! This story is actually original!"**

**Now, I'm not trying to be mean or rude to anyone who has written a HOND story that is similar to someon else's. Most of them do have diffrent looks and characters and are orginal in a sence. But I wanted to write something that had NO resemblance to ANYONE else's work. The whole point of writing for fun, in my opinion, is to be ORIGINAL. Be diffrent! Make a statement by writing something completely off the wall!**

**And you know what? That's what makes several, several stories on this site so fun to read! Because they're not the same! I don't know about you, but I've read so many stories that have the same basic plotline! And this is for every genre! Take TMNT for example, I know pretty much how every Turtle/OC romance is going to go because more than HALF of them have the same elements!**

**Turtle saves girl from getting robbed/raped/kidnapped/so on and so on**

**Turtle spends time girl**

**Turtle finds out some piece of dark past about girl**

**Girl has some evil dude after her**

**Girl eventually gets kidnapped than taken by Evil Dude**

**Turtle and family saves Girl and defeats Evil Dude . . .**

**You see where I'm going with this? That sums up pretty much every Turtle/OC romance fic I've read. I love the turtles and I love the fact they find someone who loves them back. BUT CAN WE PLEASE SEE SOME ROMANCE THAT DOESN"T FOLLOW A FORMULA?!**

**Sorry, I'm getting really off track here. I'm just trying to help encourage people to go their own way. Just because there are hundreds of Turtle/OC romances that are written THIS way, doesn't mean you have to write them THAT way. Go in a completely diffrent direction! Why not have the girl saving the turtle for once? **

**Okay, enough with the rambling! Just go your own way people! Write it the way YOU want, not with what's popular or what's been done a million times. It's like beating a dead horse, you know? **

**Be YOU on this site! That's all for now! I'm sure everyone wants me to shut up. Good day!**


	20. Interrogation

**Okay, sorry for not posting sooner. For some reason or another, this chapter in perticular was giving me trouble. I had to rewrite at least half of it TWICE before I was satisfied with it. Just so you know, Frollo isn't going to be very nice in this chapter. Wait, what am I saying? He's the villian, he isn't supposed to be nice! Okay, well in any case, there's mental and physical abuse involved. Now, onward readers! Tallyho!**

**I always wanted to say that!**

**Chapter Twenty**

**Interrogation**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

By now, dark had fallen. The young redhead tried to get her emotions under control, everything from panic to fear warred wildly within her. Panic because Frollo was coming, more than likely he figured out that Esmeralda and her had needed help escaping the bell tower in the first place. Fear because Phoebus was wounded and in no shape to leave the bell tower without help. That and being out cold didn't help matters either. Sophia reached the top of the steps out of breath and very winded. Quasi was by her side not a moment later.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently, his eyes filled with concern and a slight hint of fear.

She inwardly cringed, knowing exactly what that fear meant. He was wary of her, unsure of her true intentions or what reasons she had for pretending to be engaged other than throwing off her mother. In all honesty, it was time. She just needed more time to work up the courage to tell him her true feelings and gosh darn it . . she was so _close! _But, on the up side, Djali did warn them about Frollo's approach. Speaking of which . . .

"I'm fine," Sophia shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Come on, we have to hurry. Frollo will be here any moment."

She hurried into the tent and went straight to Phoebus's side, who, by the way, was still out cold. She shook his uninjured shoulder lightly but he did not stir. Instead, he mumbled something in his sleep, rolled over, and threw up an arm catching Sophia around the shoulders and causing her to fall on top of him. She struggled wildly, but Phoebus' hold did not loosen. It also didn't help matters that Quasi walked in at that exact moment either. She heard him inhale sharply, then preceded to sputter franticly.

"Don't just stand there!" She hissed at him, still trying to remove Phoebus' arm. "Get him off me!"

Quasi's heavy footsteps approached her quickly and then the crushing force that was pinning her down was gone. Before she could straighten up completely, Quasi grabbed her carefully by her upper arm and spun her away from the still sleeping Captain. He turned her in his hands so she was now facing him, a mixture of emotions on his features.

"Are you hurt?!" He asked in earnest, his musical tones suddenly stern and ever so slightly, demanding. Concern and a hint of anger raged within his sky blue eyes as he looked her up and down for any sign of injury. "Did he harm you?!"

Sophia had never seen this side to him before. It was almost . . possessive! She didn't even know what to call the look in his eyes.

"N-no," She stumbled over the word, slightly shaken at his set expression and clipped tone. "I-I'm not hurt. I don't think he knew what he was doing." She turned her attention to Phoebus who was still sleeping, "He's still out cold."

Quasi wrenched his head to the side and glared darkly at the sleeping man. Sophia felt a chill run down her spine. Why was he was acting so out of character? It was almost like watching someone try to take a bone from a dog. Maybe it was a bad analogy, but it was the only one that came to mind. Whatever was the matter, she knew she had to calm him down. They were wasting precious time standing here doing nothing.

"You can yell at him later if it'll make you feel better," Sophia admonished hurriedly. "We don't have time!"

She gently pried Quasi's hands from her shoulders and raced to peal back the entrance flap of the tent. "Is there anywhere we can hide him that Frollo wouldn't notice?"

Suddenly his features calmed and his eyes lost their harden gaze. He shook his head, then stated quickly, "Under the worktable. The covering is long enough to hide a person from view, even if they are coming up the steps."

At his own words of revelation, Quasi stumbled towards the unconscious Captain and heaved him from the bed and onto the wooden floor. Sophia winced as Phoebus' head connected hard with the hard surface. He was going to have one heck of a headache when he woke up.

"Try not to hurt him too much, Quasi." She advised as he took the man by the armpits and began to drag him out of the tent. "We want him relatively alive."

The hunchback grunted in response but continued to drag the limp, incapacitated soldier across the floor and towards the worktable. She rushed ahead in order to pull back the burlap covering that protected the makeshift table. Once Phoebus was close enough, Quasi reached down and with all his strength, lifted the man just enough to shove him, and none too gently either, into the small space. The Captain let out a long moan of pain, but Quasi kicked him hard in the side of the face to silence him.

Sophia sent her friend a glare, "You didn't have to do that you know."

Quasi returned her glare with one of his own. "He will be fine. It is not as if I did him any permanent harm."

"That's not the point!" She countered.

He opened his mouth to retort but at that moment, the door to the tower suddenly flew open with a _bang! _Quasi rushed forward and took her by the hand, guiding her up one of the ladders and into the shadows of the largest bell in the tower. Big Marie. He motioned for her to stay hidden, then, once he was sure she would obey, bypassed the ladder all together and jumped down to the platform below. As Frollo's footsteps approached, Sophia held her breath and prayed the judge wouldn't have the urge to look up into the rafters or under the worktable. She remained where she was, nestled in the protective shadow of Big Marie.

"M-Master!" Quasi's voice trembled slightly as he made some sort of movement to accommodate the judge. "I-I had no idea you would be visiting this evening!"

"I always have time for you boy," Came Frollo's cool, deep baritone.

Sophia got down on her front and very quietly, crawled forward so she could peer over the side. Frollo took a seat at the far end of the worktable and placed a woven basket on top of the smooth surface. He folded his hands neatly beside the basket before observing the tower around him. As his eyes swept across the rafters, she thought he paused for a few seconds more in her direction; his steel gray eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, his sharp gaze pinning her very soul in place. Sophia felt a violent shiver run down her spine and fought the urge to pull away. She had to remain very still and quiet if she didn't want to be discovered. A moment later, Frollo lost interest in the rafters and returned his attention once more to his charge.

"I've brought you a little treat, Quasimodo." He reached down into the basket and withdrew a grape bunch, holding it lightly in his long fingers and extending it just the slightest bit in Quasi's direction. He did this as if offering a dog a bone, but keeping the treat just out of reach.

Quasi didn't react at first, seemingly too nervous about the current situation to fully process his master's words. However, the judge cleared his throat rather loudly in order to regain his attention and Quasi, now understanding what his master was implying, made a noise of revelation and moved quickly to retrieve their standard plates and goblets. Unfortunately, his movements were sharp and unsteady, thus causing several pieces of stoneware to slip from his hands and fall to the floor where they shattered.

Sophia slapped a hand over her face. Quasi was acting too nervous and jumpy! He had to get a hold of his emotions and try to remain clam, otherwise Frollo would become suspicious. That is, if he wasn't already and by the current expression on the judge's face, he wasn't looking too convinced.

"Come on Quasi," She gently encouraged under her breath. "You can _do_ this."

As Quasi presented the tableware to their proper owner, Frollo again looked around in search of something. When once again he was met with nothing, he reached into the basket and placed a serving of grapes upon Quasi's wooden plate before serving himself. Her friend took a hesitant seat next to his miniature Notre Dame and began ringing his hands nervously under the table. He really wasn't handling this well.

"There's something _different_ here," Frollo said slowly while carefully plucking a grape from its bunch and placing it in his mouth.

Quasi flinched sharply but was able to respond with some sureness in his voice, "N-no Master. N-nothing."

The judge's expression hardened at his denial and his head rose sharply to stare at his charge from across the table.

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then what, pray tell Quasimodo, is this?"

Frollo reached over and plucked one of Quasi's wooden figures from the tabletop. He held it up at eye length, looked it over with extreme slowness, then offered it to the hunchback in demand for an explanation. If Quasi's face was pale before, than whatever color was left now drained away completely. He reached forward to take the carving from his master, but Frollo pulled it out of his reach and looked it over again.

"I must say," The judge turned the figure carefully in his hands, taking in every inch of detail. "It's quite good. You most certainly found a wonderful way to spend your free time."

Sophia watched in growing horror as Quasi's face distorted in both fear and desperation. From her position she couldn't see much of the carving, but it appeared to be wearing a green dress of some sort. The miniature figure must mean something dear to her friend because he currently resembled a little boy who's favorite toy was in the hands of the local bully. He looked like he would love nothing more than for Frollo to put down the carving and leave it alone.

"If I may," The cruel man asked slowly, turning the figure so its painted face was looking up at him. "It truly is a likeness to the one girl," He paused for emphasis. "The redhead."

"No!" Quasi's eyes widened in unadulterated horror and he stood so abruptly that he toppled over the stool.

Frollo too rose from his seat and skirted around the edge of the table, throwing the carving to the side where it skidded to a halt underneath the same ladder that lead up into Sophia's hiding place. The little figure forgotten, the judge towered over Quasi who shrunk in on himself in the vain attempt to hide from his master's angered gaze.

"I know you helped them escape!" Frollo grabbed two fist fulls of Quasi's green tunic and shook him violently. "I had guards posted at every door! Every entrance blocked! There was no way for them to leave, save for you!"

Sophia continued to watch in growing horror as Frollo shoved Quasi to the floor, his hunched back colliding hard with the wooden surface with a resounding _crack!_ She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes now wide with fear for Quasi's well-being and of Frollo's now violent aggression.

"Where are they?!" The judge bellowed at him, leaning over and striking him across the face. "Where is the gypsy?!"

"I-I do not not know!" Quasimodo pleaded, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. "Master _please!_"

Hearing the pleading in his voice nearly sent Sophia into hysterics. She had seen Frollo do some truly terrible things to Quasi, but this?! This was the worst she'd ever seen from the judge. He was in a rage! A pure, unadulterated, unstoppable rage!

"You are weak!" Frollo snarled at his charge, who now lay on the floor shivering in fear. "Did you truly believe if you aided them that they could possibly show you any kindness?! Have you forgotten what you are?! One of them is a gypsy! It wasn't _kindness_ she was showing you, it was _cunning!_"

The judge leaned over and pulled Quasi up by the front of his tunic, glaring directly into the boy's disfigured face. "Did you think you could win the gypsy's heart?! Fool! They have no _soul_ to speak of! And what of the redhead? The girl is of a proper society, how could _she_ even begin to love a creature such as you?!"

Quasi, now completely trembling in fear, could only cry out in hurt as Frollo threw him back to the ground. The judge straightened to his full height and withdrew a dagger from his sleeve. Sophia felt her heart turn to solid ice and prepared herself to jump from the rafters in order to separate Quasi from the enraged minister. But there was no need. Frollo strode briskly to the ladder and leaned over to plunge the tip of the blade into the carving that was now reveled to be her lookalike.

"It makes no difference," Frollo spoke offhandedly as he went over to the table, reaching over and pulling a burning candle towards him. "I know where the gypsy is hiding and more than likely, the other girl is with her. I will attack at dawn with a thousand men."

Then he thrust the wooden figure into the heart of the flame. Immediately, the green dress caught aflame and the fire burned brighter with the new source of fuel. Within moments, the carving was fully ablaze and Frollo flicked the dagger just so that it slipped off the blade and fell to the floor. It rolled forward until it collided gently against the sole of Quasi's shoe. The judge gave a curt nod in satisfaction at his charge's forlorn and wounded expression then turned and disappeared into the shadows.

"They will torment you no longer."

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Finally, Sophia deemed it safe enough to climb down from her perch in the rafters. As she jumped the last few rungs of the ladder, she saw what she had always hoped she would never see. Quasimodo's expression had become unreadable. It was blank of all emotion. He kept his gaze focused on the burning remains of what Sophia now understood, was herself. It was strange, seeing her own image aflame. And disturbing. Very disturbing indeed.

"Quasi?" She approached cautiously, not sure what to expect from him now that Frollo had out righted attacked him. Both physically and mentally. "Quasi?"

She knelt down in front of him and the small flame. The figure was black as night now, the clothing and hair burned away into nothingness. All that remained was the general shape of the carving. Quasi's head was bowed, his hands resting limply across his knees as he continued to watch the flame as if she hadn't spoken at all. Tears pricked sharply at the corner of her eyes and she found she had to fight back a sob that threatened to escape her lips. She had to keep herself together, she had to be his pillar of strength, and then, above all, they had to get to the Court of Miracles.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who thought so.

"We have to go."

Startled by the sound of Phoebus' voice, Sophia twisted around to see the Captain rising to his feet and using the edge of the table for support. Color had returned to his tanned skin and he appeared well enough to walk. But in her past experience, looks could be deceiving.

Still remaining where she was, she shook her head at the man in disagreement. "You're still wounded Phoebus. You're in no condition to be running around Paris looking for gypsies."

"Do you honestly believe I'm going to let some _arrow_," He spat the word as if it were poison in his mouth. "Get in my way?" His expression became one of set determination, "I'm going to find Esmeralda one way or another. Do you mean to stop me?"

Phoebus left the question hanging as a threat and he meant every word of it. There was no changing his mind once it was made up. He was truly and hopelessly in love with Esmeralda and he would go to any lengths necessary to find and warn her of Frollo's threat. The both of them loved the other with all their _souls_. Who was she to stand in the way of love?

"Very well," She relented with sigh of exasperation. "I suppose it wouldn't really matter if I said 'no' in the first place. You'd follow us anyway."

She returned her attention to Quasi, who had still not come out of his petrified state. Her lookalike had burned out, now nothing more than charred, black wood. She didn't even get to see it clearly enough. She never knew that Quasi had made a figure of her. He never showed it to her. Somehow, that hurt. Why did he never show it to her? Did he think that she wouldn't like it, that she would hate the way he saw her? She loved everything he made! Every little carving, every little piece of glass sculpture, every little detail he put into his work, she loved! So why didn't he trust her to see her own image. She would have rather have seen it before than have to gaze at its now blacken remains.

"Come on Quasi," She encouraged, placing a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "You can always do me over again. I'll even pose for you if you want."

That did it. Quasi's head jerked up so fast that she withdrew her hand as if burnt. His eyes were ablaze with some raw, untamed emotion she couldn't identify and his facial expression was one of seriousness and grim.

"Do you over again?" His voice came thick and rough, not a trace of his usual kind and soothing tone to be heard. He met her eyes with such a hard, unyielding gaze that a small flash of apprehension flickered through her. "If it was some fisherman or baker, yes! But you are different! I put more into you than any carving I have _ever_ made!"

Sophia sat there stunned and bewildered. Quasi's expression fell and became one of complete and total loss, as if he lost the one thing that made his life turn round and round.

"You are _special_, Sophia!" He breathed, his voice returning to normal. He gently placed his large hands over her small shoulders and gave them a careful shake. "You cannot be remade all over again! _I_ cannot remake you! Not once I already have!"

She gazed into his sky blue eyes, unable to break away from the sheer emotion within them. He thought she was special! She was special! Warmth seeped through every part of her, filling her with comfort and a sense of belonging. The young red head always wished to mean something to someone, someone who was not family. Selena was like an older sister to her and she in turn felt the same towards Sophia. But, that was sisterhood. It wasn't the same. She had never felt what it was like to have a brother, but at one point she began to view Quasi as such. Then, on its own accord, that feeling grew and began to transform into the emotion she now held for the deformed hunchback. Love.

"Ahem!"

The pair abruptly broke eye contact and spun about to see Phoebus leaning against a ladder, one foot positioned behind the other. He looked quite smug about something and sent Sophia a quick wink of encouragement and praise. She had the decency to blush and turned her head away.

"This is all nice and heartwarming but we have a gypsy people to warn of impending doom, remember?" He asked rather offhandedly as he examined his fingernails.

Sophia and Quasi shared a quick glace, then quickly rose to their feet in a fluster. She dusted the dirt and soot from her hose and tunic, straightening out the fabric and smoothing it down. She tried to keep the growing heat from rising to her face but it was a useless battle. It was a curse of hers, she blushed way too easily. Trying to look everywhere but at Quasi, she drew her attention to what remained of the little carving that rested on the floor. She stooped down and scooped up the now charred and blackened figure that, at one time, resembled herself.

Despite that many of its pleasant features were no longer there, she could tell just by the shape of it that it was carefully made. She smiled softly at it, even in this stage, she thought that it was beautiful in its own right. Maybe the figure couldn't be replaced, that was fine with her. The fact alone he carved a likeness of her in the first place was more than enough. That brought a warmth to her heart like she had never felt before. Here in her hands, was herself made into existence by Quasimodo's own two hands. It was certainly a wonderful feeling.

"If its alright," She began, gently stroking the carving with the pad of her thumb. "I'd like to keep her."

Quasi looked generally shocked by her request. "Keep her? But-"

Sophia shook her head, "I think she's beautiful Quasi. I wish I could have seen what she looked like before but," She paused. "Its alright really."

The bell ringer's expression became indecisive, as though he wasn't certain if he wanted to part with the figure or not.

"A splendid idea," Phoebus interrupted impatiently, not giving them the option to discuss the topic. "Now, if the two of you aren't too occupied, can we please get back to finding the gypsy hideout? I most certainly would like to warn the love of my life that her and her people are being ambushed."

The young redhead exchanged a glance with Quasi, then turned back to the Captain. "Right, let's be off."

However, it wasn't until they reached a small door on the north side of Notre Dame did Phoebus suddenly remember something viably important.

"By any chance, would one of you happen to know the actual location of the Court of Miracles?"

**P****ersonally, I really like Phoebus' last line in this chapter. It's so funny! What I like about writting this story is having a balance between the darkness and the light. It's a romance, but its very dark and can be very violent and scary at times. Plus, there's humor! At least, I hope my humor and dark elements don't clash in such a way that it takes away the impact. I hope not. If it is though, pleas tell me. I would rather know what's wrong and doesn't work so I can fix it and not have this jumble of lust, true love, and humor.**

**I want it to work together. Like Yin and Yang!**

**Anyway, I hope this chapter was a success and pleased you. If you would, kindly leave a comment down in the box below. Hearing from you has been the highlight of my days since I first began this tale of mine. Can you believe I have 52 reviews on this?! 52!**

**THANK YOU PEOPLE FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY VERY BIG HEART! YOU ALL ARE AMAZING!**


	21. The Woven Band

**Hello again! Once more I wish to apologize for not updating sooner. I'm pulling longer shifts at worrk and I had to update another story I'm also working on. Not much to say on this one except, in the middle of the chapter, you're going to get a glimpse of an angry Quasi again. The reason being? Sorry, you'll have to read to find out. You may want a tissue though. It's not sad, just really sweet and heartwarming. You'll find out. I've said too much!**

**Special Thanks to . . .**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**Mrs. Barnes**

**CityCat**

**grapejuice101**

**SummertimeRose**

**Nicole**

**Anne**

**Whatever-chan**

**Istric**

**Ariella and Daniella**

**Your reviews have been my primary source of motivation and encouragement! I want to thanks all of you for being with me throughout this tale of mine and giving it your full support! YOU'RE ALL AWESOME!**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**The Woven Band**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

The small party stood just outside the small side-door on the north side of Notre Dame completely puzzled. Not one of them knew the location of the gypsy court or how, in fact, to get there. Quasi (_clad in his navy cloak_) looked to Phoebus, who looked to Sophia, who looked back at Phoebus.

"What?" The Captain held out his hands, palms facing upwards.

Quasi shared a slightly irritated glance with Sophia before turning his attention back to the golden haired man. "I would believe a man of your position would have _some_ knowledge about hideaways."

Phoebus rolled his eyes in exasperation and crossed his arms. "He would if he hadn't been away from the city in two decades. I haven't been to Paris since I was a young lad."

Sophia slapped a hand over her eyes and groaned, "Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"It would help matters if we had some sort of clue." Phoebus defended and trying to divert the attention away from himself. "Such as a map or something similar to it."

The young redhead went stalk still for a moment, feeling as if someone had lit a candle above her head. How could she have forgotten?!

"Dash it all!"

Without so much as a second thought, Sophia plunged a hand down the front of her tunic in search of the object that just may be the answer to their problem. However, as her action was not exactly a proper one, both Quasi and Phoebus cried out in shock and embarrassment and each turned a rather deep shade of crimson. Too focused to her task to pay the two men any mind, she continued to search until her hand found the length of thick cord that hung from her neck.

"Got it!" Cried the young red head triumphantly and withdrawing her hand from her tunic.

When she looked up however, she was met with two very flushed faces and neither man could look her directly in the eyes.

"What's wrong?" She asked confused, tilting her head to the side. "I've got something here that might be of some use."

Sophia held out her fist and let the object slip from her grasp, but still held onto the cord that it was attached to. The object in question was a woven band of some sort, made out of a dark wood that was not known to the young redhead. It was oval shaped and held together with twine. A strand of thick blue thread started at the top and went down a quarter of the way before breaking off into two separate strands.

This continued for the rest of the way before meeting again at the bottom and becoming one strand again. This created a large, blue outlined oval in the center of the band and ten wooden, red beads lined the length of the blue oval. In the center of the piece was a rather large white cross that appeared to be made out of bone. Finally, outside of the blue oval and on the far righthand side, was a much smaller cross. However, instead of being white, this cross was black.

All together, it was quite a confusing piece. It seemed to have disapated whatever made the two men uncomfortable because they both suddenly leaned forward in keen interest.

"Ah, yes." Phoebus said slowly, leaning over and peering intently at the object. Then, after not being able to fully identify what exactly it was, asked, "What is it?"

Sophia shook her head, "No idea. Esmeralda gave it to me while you were unconscious. She told me it would help us find her if the time came."

"Hmm. Maybe it's Ancient Greek," Pondered the golden haired man.

The Captain took the object from her and held it up by the cord at eye length in the hope that the band's meaning would become clear. Apparently, this did nothing but further confuse the golden haired man because he then preceded to glare at the offending object. Quasi however, stepped forward and tilted his head back so as it get a better look at the curious band. He reached out a large hand and gently steadied the delicate object between his thumb and forefinger. As he continued to examine it, his eyes began to light up in slow realization.

"It's a map," Quasi stated in quiet understanding, taking the woven band from Phoebus and holding it closer to his face for further inspection.

"What?!"

"Huh?"

Both Phoebus and Sophia moved in closer to have a second look at the strange object. At first glance, it didn't seem like much but the second time . . .

"See?" Quasi pointed to the blue thread, excitement growing in his gentle voice. "This is the Seine and in the center here, that is the cathedral and this little stone I believe-"

"What're you talking about?" Phoebus shook his head in bewilderment before pointing to the object in question. "I've never seen a map that looks like-"

"Now hold on you two," Sophia tried to intervene but already the conversation was starting to heat up.

Quasi glared angrily at the Captain, thoroughly insulted by his lack of belief. "I have lived up in the bell tower for twenty years and I think I know what the city looks like from above, and this _is_ it!"

". . . This is _not_ it!"

Both men took a deep breath at the exact same time before looking away from the other. Sophia cradled her brow in one of her palms and gave an exasperated sigh. This mindless arguing wasn't getting them any closer to finding the gypsies and if the two of them kept butting heads throughout the whole thing they were never going to save Esmeralda. They needed to get their act together and work as a team!

"Are you two quite finished?" She asked coldly as she raised her head sharply to give both men a scolding look. "Because if the two of you keep this up, I'm going without you."

Quasi and Phoebus looked at her with mild surprise at her tone, then shared a look of reluctant acceptance and grudgingly gave the other a curt nod.

"Truce?" The Captain asked, holding out a hand for the hunchback to shake on agreement.

"Truce." Replied Quasi hesitantly, who bypassed the hand all together and slapped Phoebus on the back with a hard _thud!_

And, unfortunately, on the same side where the arrow almost claimed his life. Phoebus let out a cry of barely restrained agony and doubled over in pain.

"Quasi!" She scolded, putting her hands on her hips and shooting him a displeased look.

Ignoring her intense gaze, Quasi just shook his head and ducked out from the alcove they had been taking cover under and began to walk down the cobbled street. Making sure Phoebus was able to carry on, Sophia followed her friend's lead and raced after him to catch up.

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

It wasn't long before he lead them across one of the bridges to the north and towards the now abandoned cemetery at the edge of city. It was abandoned mainly because the cemetery was on a steep hill and water had built up over the course of the years which began pushing those buried up to the surface. Then, during heavy rains, the soil covering the coffins (the ones recently buried and hadn't had the chance to break down completely) and bones of the deceased would be washed away and families would have to rebury their dead all over again. It was becoming quite a problem, so the city had all those buried there removed and reburied on the south side of Paris. So far, It had been a success.

"Well, this is . . unexpected."

Quasi looked back over his shoulder to find that Sophia had stopped about halfway up the stone path and was gazing up at the rather large, rusty, iron gate that led into the cemetery. She didn't look scared or frightened, but neither was she encouraged by the location. He turned back and soaked up the surrounding area; it was not all that comforting. The sky stood pitch black against the horizon and the hills on which many on the tombs still stood were decedent and ominous. What few tress lay beyond the gate were either dead or dying. It was not a place honorable people went that was certain. Which meant, this was the perfect place to hide a band of gypsy refuges.

Quasi hobbled down a ways to the young woman and gently took her small hand in his.

"It will be alright Sophia." He offered her a reassuring smile and guided her up the small, crumbling stone path towards the gate.

Phoebus, who had moved on ahead, was just pushing open the heavy iron gate as the two approached. He looked over his shoulder, a grim and slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. "Are you certain this is the place, Quasi?"

The golden haired man gestured to the scene behind him and grimaced. It appeared he was no more thrilled by it than Sophia.

"Yes," Replied the hunchback. Quasi let go of her hand and came up on the Captain's left to squeeze himself through the opening. Once he was on the other side, Phoebus passed him the torch he had been carrying. "Come, we do not have much time."

Phoebus and Sophia shared a look of reluctance but both nodded in silent agreement. The Captain braced himself against the gate once more and gave it another shove to allow the both of them passage. Several attempts later, it finally gave and swung out another foot and a half.

"I think that's all she's going to give us," Said Phoebus as he stepped through the now larger opening and helped Sophia over a rather large hole.

Now that his companions were safely on the other side, Quasi looked around for any sign of a black cross. He gestured for them to split up but stay in range of the torch so they could see any inscriptions on the stones. After about ten minutes of searching through rows of burial plots, something must have caught Sophia's because she called out insistently for him.

"Quasi bring the torch over! I think I've found something!"

Both men were instantly at her side within a moment and found Sophia standing before a rather ancient looking mausoleum. Phoebus took the torch from Quasi and lifted it over the stone slab that lay before them to see what exactly she was talking about.

"No, not there Phoebus," Sophia admonished gently, reaching over and lifting his arm higher. "Here."

There, in the light of the torch, carved intricately into the opposing face of the stone wall, was a large black, strangely shaped cross. Quasi stood stunned at the symbol then looked down at the woven map in his hand. It was the exact same cross!

"This must be the Court of miracles." Sophia stated as she began pressing her hands all over the structure in search for a hidden entrance of some sort. "But how do we get in?"

"Sophia, I may have found your answer." Phoebus peered over the stone slab and held the torch higher so he could read what was written there. "It'll take me a moment to translate but I think-"

While Phoebus continued under his breath, Quasi on the other hand, spotted something strange about the slab. In most cases, the slabs were cemented to the lips of the stone coffin, thus sealing the coffin closed and protecting the body within. However, this particular slab was _not_ fixed permanently. In fact, it looked as if it had _never_been cemented closed! Quasi thought this was odd as he knew it was a standard procedure when burying those who had enough money to be laid to rest in such a fashion. Why would the family _not_ have the slab cemented to the coffin?

It suddenly dawned on Quasi that the reason the slab wasn't fixed in the first place was because whoever had this built wasn't trying to keep things _out_, they were allowing people _in!_

Thinking fast, Quasi braced himself against either side of the lid and, summoning all his upper body strength, pushed the heavy, stone slab clear off the top of the coffin. The small party gathered around to peer inside and were quite surprised that, instead of a body, there was a flight of stairs that led deep into the hillside.

"Well," Phoebus said slowly, thoroughly amazed by the sight before him. "I suppose we could simply just go down those steps."

Sophia made a noise of wonderment as she gripped the edge of the stone lip and leaned over to peer into the darkness of the passage. Then, with no warning to Quasi or Phoebus, swung herself over the side and descended down into the darkness; her landing echoing back up to them. The hunchback could no longer see her through the deep blackness!

"Sophia!" He cried out in shock and disapproval. He wasn't keen on the fact that she just up and jumped into the passage without so much as a light or a friend to assist her if need be.

"Come on you two!" Her voice bounced off the stone walls of the tunnel and carried it back up to them. She sounded alright. "I would like to see where I'm going!"

Quasi frowned, then admonished sternly, "Then you should not have blindly jumped! You have no idea what is in there!"

"Then hurry up and come down!" Was her reply, not at all phased by his disapproval.

Phoebus laughed heartily as he leaned over the side and tried to contain his chuckles. "Come on Quasi, we better not keep the lady waiting." Then he paused for a moment and his facial expression changed to a very contemplated one. "She sure is something else, isn't she? Certainly not your average woman, that's for sure."

The Captain made a move to climb down into the passage but Quasi threw out a large hand and caught the soldier in the chest, making him halt in his movements. He couldn't help but read in between the lines of Phoebus' comment and a deep, burning feeling warred angrily within his chest. He needed to know the truth. And he needed to know it now, before anything else happened.

"Before we go a step further," He warned, his tone clipped and sharp. "There is something I must know."

Phoebus' own features hardened and settled into a very serious expression. "I know what you are going to ask, Quasi. There's no need for this. You have nothing to fear from me."

He continued to keep the man under his piercing gaze, never letting on that he was going to let this go. "Somehow, I do not believe you."

The man sighed, hung his head for a moment, then looked up and met the hunchback's harsh scrutiny head on. "There is nothing between us, Quasi. What Sophia and I have is purely friendship, nothing more."

Quasi narrowed his eyes at him in both disbelief and anger. In truth, he did not believe a word that the soldier was telling him. He needed the truth. Sophia told him that there was nothing on _her_ side of the agreement, but it was _him_ that concerned the hunchback. What was Phoebus' _true_ intentions towards _his_ light?

"I want the truth Phoebus!" He growled threateningly, leaning into the Captain's face and never once breaking eye contact. "Are your intentions towards her noble or not? Or have you just been using her the whole time for your advantage?!"

The golden haired man looked absolutely appalled by his words and suddenly, he was the one leaning in towards him. "How dare you ensue that I have had nothing _but_ honest intentions!"

"And that is?!" He was shouting fully now, his breathing heavy and his emotions ranging from fear to pure onslaught.

Phoebus pulled away from him then, shaking his head in a rather sad fashion. "I would have thought it obvious, Quasi. Or do you really haven't the faintest idea?"

"What are you talking about?" His volume dropped to an almost inaudible level, but anger and confusion plain as day in his voice.

The Captain glared at the hunchback in an equally angry fashion. "It's not my place! The answer to your questions is down there!" He extended an arm and pointed down into the dark passage that Sophia had jumped into. "The one you need to be discussing this with is _her_, Quasi! Not me!"

"What in the name of all that is holy are you two _doing!_ We have a gypsy people to warn and your leading lady to save, Phoebus! Get a move on! I hate the dark and you know it Quasi!"

Just the sound of her voice (_despite the fact that it was angry at the moment_) was enough to cool Quasi's raw emotions like a healing balm. All his anger and rage left him at once and suddenly it was as if he was thrust back into reality. He shot the Captain once last look of suspicion, then jumped down into the darkness to join the woman who he now knew to be deeply and hopelessly in love with.

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Something heavy landed beside her, startling her so badly that she tripped over herself in the attempt to move away from the new presence. She fell backwards, landing hard against the stone steps of the passage and crying out in pain as her right shoulder made contact.

"Sophia?" A voice rang out like an iron bell, concern in his tones.

"I'm fine," She reassured the voice, who she recongnized to be Quasi's, as she slowly began to pick herself up. "You just startled me is all."

Suddenly warm, large hands found her upper arms and carefully lifted her to her feet. Even in the pitch darkness that surrounded them, Sophia knew those hands and the only person they could possibly belong to. Then the hands pulled her towards the owner, gently holding her against someone who was stout, yet so very warm. She knew this embrace anywhere too. Quasi.

Light burst through the darkness and Sophia cried out at the sudden intrusion on her sight. She squeezed her eyes shut and held up a hand to keep the flame from the torch at bay. Quasi too cried out in exclamation and turned the both of them so the light was to their backs.

"Phoebus will you watch where you're pointing that thing!" She scolded harshly, slowly opening her eyes and allowing her sight to adjust to the sudden change.

"Sorry!" He sounded relatively sincere enough.

She removed Quasi's arms from around her, marched over to Phoebus, and snatched the torch from his bare hand. "Give me that! Just what were you two doing anyway?! This is hardly the time to stop and smell the roses!"

Without waiting for an answer from either man, she turned on her heel and made her way down the rest of the steps. When she neared the bottom of the tunnel, Sophia was met with a rather unpleasant sight. Sewer water had collected at the bottom and had reached to the point that it had covered the last five or so steps from sight. With great caution, she slowly found each step with her foot and when she had finally reached the bottom, the water was at the top of her knees.

"Wonderful," She grumbled irritably, not enjoying the fact that she was literally knee deep in shit and other things she didn't want to think about. "Simply wonderful."

Quasi and Phoebus soon came up behind her and she glared angrily at the both of them when it appeared that the water only came up to their calves. It was times like these that she really hated being so short! Too wounded by the fact they weren't nearly waist deep in the stuff, She continued onward, not caring that she wasn't striking up a conversation with the two men. Because of the liberties they had been taking all night, she wasn't sure if they would reach Esmeralda and the gypsies in time.

Leading the way down the tunnel, it was a while before Sophia felt as though the were being watched. She kept looking back over her shoulder and casting nervous looks at the shadows (_this caused Quasi and Phoebus to ask questions but she just shook her head and kept walking_). Eventually, Phoebus and Quasi struck up a small conversation that she barely paid attention to, she was just glad that they finally had stopped arguing with each other.

"Where do you think this leads?" Quasi asked.

"To the Court of Miracles I would have to say." Phoebus answered dryly.

"_This_ is the Court of Miracles?" Quasi questioned incredulously, not believing for an instant that the sewage they were wading through could possibly be the gypsy hideout.

"Offhand," Phoebus commented in a slightly sarcastic manner. "I'd say it's the Court of Ankle-deep Sewage."

Sophia couldn't help but laugh; it sure made the trip slightly better if they could joke about their surroundings.

"True," She agreed, still giggling, but then added in a more serious tone. "But we should have ran into someone by now."

"Yes," Phoebus agreed slowly, looking about for any signs that someone was down here recently. "A guard or a booby trap perhaps. Something!"

Suddenly a great gust of wind came whirling down the tunnel from behind them and the torch that was clutched tightly in her grasp, was blown out. Sophia cried out in fear as the tunnel and her friends disappeared. Without the torch, everything was pitch black! She couldn't even see her hand that she held up to her face in order to test if there was_ anything_ she could see!

"Quasi!" She called tentatively, sheer panic crawling up her throat and threatening to strangle her. "Phoebus!"

"Sophia!" Quasi's voice sounded far off in the distance.

How could that be? Was she moving? She couldn't tell! She began to run, blindly, desperate to go somewhere! She tripped several times, landing in the horrid stuff that now drenched her father's tunic and making it cling to her like a second skin.

"Quasi! Phoebus!" She shouted desperately, panic now leaking into her voice. "Where are you?!"

She collided head on with something, something big and warm.

"Quasi?"

"Not quite boy."

**Ohhhhhhh! What have we here? The gypsies aren't too happy about intruders. Well, how was the chapter? Satisfactory I hope. But great or brilliant would be better. I hope you all liked the bit with Quasi and Phoebus, two men who do care for Sophia, just in diffrent ways.**

**Phoebus looks at her more as a little sister, than a love interest as he's in love with Esme.**

**Quasi on the other hand, well . . I don't think I really have to SAY anything on that one.**

**Oh! Pop Quastion: How many of you caught that little tid-bit of Quasi calling Sophia _his_ Light? **

**Yeah, I thought of that bit out of the blue but now that I really think about it, it fits the story perfectly! ****The Light Within Us. Of course, this title can be taken in many diffrent ways. Such as the good and evil that is within everyone. Everyone is cabable of Light or Darkness. But in this case, Quasi refers Sophia as being his Light because she is the one who has brought joy, acceptance, and of course, real love into his life.**

**Not only does he love her, but he needs her in such a way that allows him to see the good in his life. She is that source of good. Take her away and all he has is what he normally had in the movie. Esme and Phoebus and the gargoyles and Frollo. Though, Esme and Phoebus come much later. So you see, in my story, Quasi needs her because she has been the one to show him true kindness and love EARLY on.**

**I really hope you loved this chapter and please stay tuned for the next round. Coming up . . . The Court of Miracles!**


	22. The Court of Miracles

**Hello! Sorry for not updating in three days, I needed a break. This past week I was pulling five to six hour shifts, then I was going home to write chapters for both this story and another, and overall, I've just been wiped! Needed a little down time to go out shopping with my sister and mom. I feel loads better now! Anyway, one with the story!**

**Special Thanks to . . .**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

**Mrs. Barnes**

**CityCat**

**grapejuice101**

**SummertimeRose**

**Nicole**

**Anne**

**Whatever-chan**

**Istric**

**Ariella and Daniella**

**Your reviews have been my primary source of motivation and encouragement! I want to thanks all of you for being with me throughout this tale of mine and giving it your full support! YOU'RE ALL AWESOME!**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**The Court of Miracles**

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

The sound of Sophia's terrified scream echoed off the walls of the tunnel, sending the cry in so many directions that Quasi was not sure where exactly it originated from. The only thing he was sure off? Reaching her side and shielding her from whatever caused her to cry out in such fear.

"Sophia!" He called out to her, rushing forward in the darkness but knowing not to where.

He stumbled and fell into the dank water, thrusting out his hands to brace himself. As he pushed himself upright, someone took hold of his upper arm and, thinking it was Phoebus, allowed the owner to fully pull him to his feet. However, whoever had a hold of him, Quasi found it was not the Captain as he thought before. This hand felt different. Broader, stronger, more rough. Thinking fast, he reached over with his free hand and grasped his restrainer by the wrist. In a quick burst of strength, Quasi threw the man (_this he was sure of_) over himself and into the water off to his right.

The man cried out in surprise, but he was all but forgotten to the hunchback. Quasi again cried out for the young redhead but no response came. He felt his heart turn to ice. Where was she?! Suddenly, light filled the passageway causing him to raise a hand to shield his sensitive sight. He turned his head away for a moment, but it was in that moment that he felt two different pairs of hands take hold of his arms and force him to his knees. Cold, bone chilling water soaked through the rest of his hose and a good section of his tunic, causing him to involuntary shiver. He thrashed against the hands that held him but they only preceded to tighten their hold and force his hands behind him where they were promptly tied with a thick length of rope.

Quasi gritted his teeth and once again tried to free himself but one of the men holding him struck the back of his head with something hard. His vision clouded for a moment or two but he shook it off.

"Stop it, stop it! He hasn't hurt you! Leave him be!"

Quasi abruptly raised his head (_when had he bowed it?_) at the voice and found what he had been looking for not ten feet away. There in the light of five or six torches, was Sophia. She was facing him fully, her eyes full of fear and fright, soaked head to toe in the dank water of the tunnel, and her father's cap was gone, probably lost in the struggle. Her hands too were restrained behind her back but instead of by rope, a brute of a man stood menacingly behind her, clutching her wrists tightly in one burly hand. He could see her now drenched form shiver violently in the light, surrounded by eleven or so men who were all dressed in the fashion of gypsies. Quasi felt a rush of anger hit him squarely in the center of his chest. No one had the right to treat her in such a manner. No one!

"Let her go!" He bellowed at the man holding her, thrashing all the harder against his bonds.

The small crowd of gypsies suddenly parted, only to reveal a tall, but thin, wiry man with chin length raven hair and equally black goatee. He wore dark purple tights, a matching tunic, and a large, wide brim hat of the same color. Something about the man looked quite familiar to Quasi and after taking an even closer look at the figure, realized with growing horror who the man truly was. Clopin Trouillefou, King of thee Gypsies. And he did not look pleased in the slightest.

"And what have we here men?" He asked raising a dark eyebrow in Quasi's direction, his tone icy and cold.

"Trespassers!" Snarled the man who held Sophia, giving her wrists a hard pull causing her to yelp in pain.

Quasi couldn't suppress the warning growl that crawled up his throat and bubbled out passed his lips. However, the two men holding him down laughed at his vain attempt for freedom.

"Look at the mug on this one, eh?"

"Hey Clopin! Ah think this one's the 'unchback!"

Suddenly, something was thrown down next to Quasi, sending water and bits of debris everywhere. He turned his head to avoid getting any of the foul water in his eyes and mouth, but when he turned back to see what it was, the answer surprised him. Phoebus was wrestling hard with two gypsy men, trying to break their hold on his upper arms but could not. After several moments of struggling, the golden haired man was finally restrained and tied in the same manner as Quasi.

"This one tried to sneak 'round us sir." Said one of Phoebus' restrainers to the gypsy king. The man gave the Captain a rough shove to emphasis his point. "Didn' get far though."

"Let us go!"

Everyone's eye flickered to the small redhead, who was still struggling to free herself from the man who held her captive. She stood there, slightly bent over at the waist, her blue eyes flashing with rage, and her face set in such determination and rebellion that Quasi felt a small shiver run down the length of his spine. Even in her present, sopping wet state and being bound at the wrists, she still had the courage and determination to glare so defiantly at the gypsy king.

Clopin inclined his head slightly, then approached her slowly. "And what have we here? You seem a little misplaced among these two." He jerked a thumb in Quasi and Phoebus' direction.

Sophia didn't lower her gaze nor did she falter when she spoke again, "They are my friends, _Your Highness_." She spat his title back at him as if it were poison.

"I see," Her attitude and disrespect didn't seem to phase the king in the slightest, but instead his lip quirked upwards in a crocked smile. "Loyal are we? Well, I can hardly condemn a lad for that. However," He paused, his smile faltering and a grim expression replacing it. "Trespassers and spies are not welcomed here."

"We're not spies!" Phoebus argued, once more thrashing against his bonds. "We're here to-"

Clopin's eyes flashed with something that resembled anger and barked harshly, "Gag him."

A strip of white cloth was produced, forced into the Captain's mouth, and then tied behind his head, thus preventing him from forming any distinguishable words. Quasi turned from the golden haired man, who, unfortunate, was starting to grow on him. The hunchback glared angrily at the king before opening his own mouth to protest.

Clopin, on the other hand, did not waste time. "Him as well." Then added as an afterthought, "And the boy here too. I do not want to wake the whole Court when we go in."

Without so much as a warning, a piece of cloth was forced into Quasi's mouth and tied behind his head. He tried to shake it off or spit it out, but it was secured too tightly and one of the men holding him struck him in the back of the head again. Quasi vision swam and he could barely make out Sophia putting up her own struggle and screaming profuse at her captor. Suddenly the man holding her drew his hand back away from her as if burnt and cryied out in pain.

"AH! He _bit_ me!"

"That's what you get for- _umph!_" Sophia's enraged voice was abruptly cut short and her cry of anger and protest became muffled.

Quasi felt his heart sink as he realized someone had succeeded in gagging the young redhead. He once again tried to free himself but it only proved to be a fruitless effort.

"Carry them in you must," Clopin ordered sharply as he made his way to the front of the band. "I do not believe they will come willingly now."

The two men holding him suddenly lifted him up and threw him over one of their shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Phoebus too was lifted onto the shoulder of another gypsy. The Captain shot him a thoroughly displease look before turning his face to the water below and glaring hatefully at it. There truly wasn't much else they could do but go along for the ride.

It wasn't long before the tunnel opened up to reveal a rather large cavern filled with multicolored tents and several dozen wagons. Light from torches and fire pits also dotted along the stone walls and small sections that served as gathering areas. The gypsies that were presently out of their sleeping arrangements turned towards the group that had just entered and began to congregate around a platform.

Without so much as a warning, Quasi was dropped to from his perch onto the platform and shoved forward to meet the crowds suspicious and anxious expressions. If he could, he would be ringing his hands but unfortunately, he could not. Phoebus was then positioned next to him to his right and Sophia next to Phoebus accordingly. Suddenly, three nooses dropped from a beam that lay diagonally above theirs heads and bounced inches in front of their faces. All three turned their heads at the exact same time and shared an equally terrified look. This did not bode well for them.

"My fellow people!" Clopin had come up from behind and made his way to the edge of the platform to address his people. "I bring to you three of Frollo's spies! They were caught while trying to gain access to our safe haven!"

Immediately, the crowd erupted into shouts and cries of protest and anger. Some threw rude hand gestures at Quasi and his companions, while others simply screamed insults and curses. Phoebus tried to placate the crowd by trying to talk but his words only came out garbled and distorted. No one paid the Captain any heed except to poke some jibe at him.

"Peace!" The King of the Gypsies shouted, raising his hands in a gesture for the people to fall silent. "Now," He began, scanning the crowd before throwing out an arm in Quasi's direction. "Allow me to introduce our 'guests'."

Clopin briskly stepped in front of Quasi and made his way to stand by Phoebus.

"May I present," He waved a hand in foolish manner and gave a slight bow as he gestured to the bound and gagged Captain. "The Captain of the King's Archers, Phoebus de Chateaupers!"

Again the crowd erupted into an uproar, calling for the man's death and other hate filled shouts. Quasi flinched away from the angry people, backing away as far as the gypsy guards behind him would allow, which wasn't very far at all. A sick feeling began to churn within his stomach and all he wanted at the moment to be back in his tower where he belonged. The only place that could ever truly accept him.

"And here," The gypsy king then turned to Quasi himself, extending a hand towards the hunchback. "We have his bell ringing henchman, Quasimodo!"

He shrunk back in fear as the crowd snarled and shouted obscenities at him. Their angry and hate filled eyes piercing his very soul. He whipped his head around, looking for the one gypsy who could stop the eyes, the faces. He never wanted to be feared! He never wanted those eyes to look upon him in such hateful ways! He bowed his head and turned slightly to his left so his one good eye was hidden behind his long, course red bangs. He never wanted to leave the tower, but he did so in order to warn his friend. He came because he owed Esmeralda so much! Her friendship, her kindness, and even if it was only wishful thinking on his part, her love. He came because he wanted to help and protect his friend!

"Then," Clopin started again, this time his footsteps led away from Quasi. "My friends, we have our own mystery guest! For even I am not familiar with this boy!"

Boy? What bo-?

Quasi's head snapped up and turned to his far right so fast, a twinge of pain shot through the left side of his neck. He winced at the injury but put it aside for the time being. Clopin was now leaning over Sophia from the side and giving her a look of scrutiny. The gypsy king narrowed his eyes and preceded to look her up and down, taking in every inch of her. Quasi felt something bubble up from within him, something hot and burning. He did not appreciate the way Clopin was looking at her, nor was he pleased to see the look of uncertainty on her pale face.

"And who, my dear boy," The King of the Gypsies leaned back on his heels and crossed his thin arms, giving the young redhead a puzzled expression. "Are you?"

All uncertainty and fear left Sophia's face at once, annoyance and frustration replacing them entirely. "Ah mmn ntt a bhhy!"

Clopin, immediately feigning hearing, leaned forward and pressed a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry lad, I cannot hear you."

The king pulled away before Sophia could repeat herself and threw his head back to laugh. This caused the crowd behind him to burst into laughter as well. Quasi felt his blood boil at the cruel and uncaring sound. They cared not for who was the center of humiliation, just so that there was _someone_ to point at. Someone to laugh at. He endured it many times, many many _many_ times. Sophia did _not_ have the right to be treated in the same manner as himself! _She_ was not a monster!

A new strength began to envelope him, filling Quasi with new confidence to work at his bonds once more. Feeling the desire to shield the young redhead from the cruelty of the crowd below, he focused his brute strength on breaking the ropes that bound him. _Snap! Snap! _The moment the ropes fell from his wrists, Quasi ripped the gag from his mouth and launched himself between the gypsy king and Sophia. He turned and faced the king straight on, his back to the young redhead, shielding her from Clopin and the crowd below. A deep growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he gazed at the man with anger clear in his blue eyes. The King of the Gypsies took several steps back in surprise, but regained his composure quickly. However, the crowd below gasped in astonishment at Quasi's sheer strength and anger.

"Don't you _dare_ laugh at her!" He bellowed angrily at the king, clutching his hands into fists at his side.

Clopin narrowed his eyes at him before raising a dark eyebrow and leaning slightly to the right so as to see passed Quasi's shoulder, "'Her'? Ah, I see now. Indeed, forgiven me madam."

Quasi looked over his shoulder to gauge the young redhead's expression and found that she only offered the gypsy monarch a curt, but clearly not forgiven, nod of acceptance. She then turned her attention to him and her eyes soften instantly. There was relief in those light blue eyes and yet, there was also underlying sadness too. Sadness. Why did her eyes portray such an emotion? Jerking himself out of his thoughts, Quasi turned fully around so that he was facing her and took the strip of cloth from her mouth. The moment the gag was pulled away, Sophia's entire demeanor changed instantly.

"Just what kind of a king are you?!" She bellowed at Clopin, her expression completely livid.

Quasi immediately took several steps back from the enraged redhead and moved quickly behind her so as to untie the ropes that bound her wrists. He did this also so not as if to interfere with her shouting match with the gypsy king. In his opinion, he rightfully deserved it.

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Did it ever occur to you to _question_ those who came into your Court?!" Sophia ranted, pulling her wrists free from the ropes the moment Quasi had untied them. She stomped up to the purple clad man and poked him hard in the chest, not at all phased by his status as reigning monarch over the gypsy people. "Next time, _ask_ someone what they're doing in your tunnel instead of flying off the handle and trying to hang them!"

Clopin appeared certainly surprised to see such a small woman dressed in such a fashion, standing there lecturing him on security measures for his own hideout. For a moment he stood there absolutely speechless before shaking his head and righting himself. He offered her a mischievous grin and made a signal to one of the gypsy guards standing by to release Phoebus.

"You are quite right madame," He agreed fully, nodding his head. "It appears I have forgotten that not all of Paris means my people harm."

"No they do not!" Sophia snapped, her anger not completely out of her system. "In fact, the whole reason we're here in the first place is to warn you!"

Immediately Clopin's eyes darkened and his grin faded, "What do you mean by 'warn'?"

"She means," They turned about just in time to see Phoebus tossing his ropes aside and approaching the small group. He looked from Sophia to Clopin, then raised his voice so everyone could hear him. "Frollo's coming! He says he knows where you're hiding and he's attacking at dawn with a thousand men!"

"Then we must waste no time!" A new voice cried out.

At the sound of the voice, Sophia, Quasi, and Phoebus raced to the edge of the platform just in time to see the crowd below parted to reveal a very familiar face and a very familiar goat.

"Esmeralda!" The three friends cried out in unison.

Sophia smiled down at the young woman in relief. At least they got here in time. Phoebus, who was all too eager, looked about for a way off the platform and eventually came across a ladder. Gesturing to her and Quasi, the Captain made his way down faster than Sophia had ever seen him move before. Once his feet hit the stone floor, Phoebus bolted towards Esmeralda, lifted her clear off her bare feet, and spun her around in several circles, laughing as he did so.

The young redhead could only laugh as she watched the two interact. Unfortunately, laughing whilst climbing down a ladder was probably not the best thing for her to do. Clearly distracted by the pair, Sophia's foot missed the next rung and, due to her not expecting to miss the rung, her hands slipped from the ladder's edge. She slid down the wooden contraption a good foot when a hand reached out from above her and took hold of one of her wrists. She looked up only to see Quasi offer her an encouraging smile before lifting her up to his level.

"Why is it," He asked gently, shaking his head slightly and wrapping his now free arm around her waist. "You always end up falling from heights?"

Sophia blushed a deep crimson and turned her face away so he couldn't see just how red her face was. "I-I'm not s-sure." She stammered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I-I suppose I'll just have stop climbing things from now on."

Suddenly, Quasi laughed, his musical voice ringing melodically in her ears. "Oh Sophia!"

She felt him pull her close, then he slid the rest of the way down the ladder. Once his feet struck the stone floor, he set her down gently in front of him but did not remove his hands from her waist. Sophia hands rested lightly on his forearms, her eyes gazing directly into his and she found it was very difficult to look away from him. They stared at each other for several moments, not breaking eye contact with the other. It was as if something was passing between them that even they couldn't identify. Then, it was Quasi who finally spoke.

"I would rather you climb in places where I know I will be able to catch you when you do."

Sophia felt her breath hitch in her chest and a brand new blush dusted her cheeks. Never before had Quasi said something so . . personal to her! Telling her she was special was one thing, but telling her _he_ wanted to be the one to catch her when she fell . . That was something . . something no one had ever said to her before!

"I-I'll try keep that in mind." She breathed shakily, feeling as though the ground had suddenly been dropped from under her.

"Ahh, isn't this cute?"

Sophia and Quasi abruptly broke away from each other, deep blushes crossing both of their faces and looking rather flustered.

"Phoebus, that was cruel."

Esmeralda and Phoebus were standing six feet from them, the Captain had an arm slung around the ebony haired woman's waist while she leaned her head against his shoulder. A sudden, evil smile spread across Sophia's face.

"What about you two?" She asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at the two. "You're standing a bit close, I see."

Phoebus just waved her off, "Perhaps, but with the two of you it was too much to resist."

Sophia just rolled hers eyes at the golden haired man and turned her attention to Esmeralda. "So what's the plan?"

Esmeralda sighed softly, "We are evacuating everyone from the catacombs. We are not sure where we will go, but for the time being, leaving without being noticed is our first priority."

"It's a start," The young redhead agreed.

"If you don't mind me asking," The gypsy woman started, looking a little confused about something. "How exactly did you find us? I know the band I gave you was a good lead but how did you solve it?"

"Quasi figured it out," Sophia smiled proudly and reached over to take Quasi's hand, giving him an encouraging grin. "If it wasn't for his quick thinking, we would have never have our way."

"Nor would I!"

**Okay people, here we go to the climax! Oh, I'm going to be adding lots of new material soon. In fact, this story probably won't end for at least another five or so chapters! I may even add some bonus Chapters too. Not quite sure on how I'll going to wrap this up yet, but hey! All the more for you right?**

**Good? Bad? Please leave a nice little review in the box below! Thank you everybody!**


	23. Siege

**Okay everyone, we're coming down to the climax! Next chapter is going to be a doesy! For this chapter, I recomend the tissues again. Um, a whole box might be called for one this one. Though, not as many as you're gonna need for the upcoming ones. Those your REALLY going need tissues for. Um, might want to go to your local Wal-Mart or Kroger and stalk up. It's coming down to the wire and you might just want to be prepared.**

**Special thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You all are awesome sauce!**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Siege**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

From an opposite tunnel, Frollo stood tall against a swarm of ten thousand men. It was as if time had stopped; no one moved or seemed to breath, too frozen in fear and shock. The spell however, broke the moment the cruel judge threw out an arm and the army of soldiers conversed upon the gypsy camp. Immediately, mass panic set in and the crowd scattered every which way. Screams and cries of terror echoed across the cavern as several groups of gypsies grabbed what they could and made for the exits.

However, Frollo must have already perceived this for guards were blocking their escape, spears and pikes extended outward to prevent anyone from breaking through their ranks. The main swarm of soldiers however, came from the entrance tunnel in which Frollo was standing in and wasted no time in surrounding the young redhead and her friends, blades of all kinds drawn.

Sophia, now plagued by fear, instantly pressed herself closer to Quasi who swiftly drew her behind him. Phoebus, who still had an arm wrapped around Esmeralda's waist, too pulled his beloved close, drawing his free arm around the young woman's shoulders and placing the top of her head under his jaw. If this was any other time, the young redhead would have smiled and clapped her hands together in both joy and excitement at seeing the two so close. Unfortunately, this was not the ideal time for such actions.

"After twenty hard, long years of searching," Frollo began as he made his way slowly down the steps of the tunnel. "I have finally found it. The Court of Miracles is mine _at last!_"

He paused several feet in front of the small group, raking his cold steel gray eyes over each and every one of them before settling on just the one who held enough interest.

"My dear boy," The black robed minister reached out a clawed hand and gently stroked the top of Quasi's head. Sophia, who's hands rested lightly against Quasi's shoulder blades, felt him cringe violently under her touch. "I knew you would be of good use."

At the man's cryptic words, the hunchback ripped his head from his master's grasp and backed away from Frollo, forcing Sophia to retreat with him. But, she took note, it was not a retreat made out of fear. Rather, it was . . .

"What?!" Quasi breathed harshly, the word sounding halfway between shock and anger.

Sophia, still sheltered behind him, placed an encouraging hand upon his shoulder. Though, it was just as much for him as it was for her. Not able to see his face, she could only tell by his posture and the tone of his voice, that Quasi no longer seemed to be shrinking in fear of Frollo. Quite the opposite in fact! Frollo only shook his head at his charge and turned his attention to Phoebus and Esmeralda who stood beside them.

"And will surprises never cease?" He asked in mild glee, spreading his arms wide and smiling twistedly. "Captain Phoebus back from the dead!"

The young redhead watched in growing dread as Phoebus' hold on Esmeralda tightened and his face settled into a hard and stony expression. Frollo merely smirked at the Captain's vain attempt to shield the ebony haired woman and gave a harsh chuckle.

"It appears the witch has taken a hold of you as well, Captain." The judge stated coolly, regaining his composure. He leaned forward just enough to place his thin face almost nose to nose with the ex-soldier. "I'll have to remedy that."

Sophia felt a flash of pure, cold fear rush over her. Then, abruptly, the frigidness became heat. A burning heat that rose up within her and filling her with the urge to protect. Not matter the cost.

"Don't you touch them, you monster!"

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He whipped about in horror to see Sophia release her hold on his shoulder and step boldly from behind him, her face once again set in determination and defiance. What was she doing?! Could she not see he was trying to protect her?! He could not loose her! Did she not see that?! He would not be able to bare seeing her at his master's mercy a second time! Why could she not stay out of harms way?!

Frollo's steely eyes quickly found the young redhead and, straightening his posture, slowly approached her but Quasimodo intercepted, putting himself before the judge. "Please, Master-"

"Step aside boy." Was the judge's curt reply, giving his charge a stony, disapproving look.

Despite his fear, Quasi knew exactly what his master would do if he obeyed his command. He had seen the man he once thought as 'Father' strike the one person that made his lonely existence worth living. A woman no less! He had seen the man he owed his very life to, tear apart the only good he was able to find and discover on his own in this world. He could no longer stand by and do nothing!

"Master, she has done nothing!" He insisted, his voice raising in desperation. "Please! Let her be!"

"'Let her be'?" Frollo raised a graying eyebrow at him, his tone deadly quiet.

The minister slowly took several steps towards his charge, his expression blank and yet, his entire being gave off a terrible aura. He stopped inches away and leaned over so as to look the hunchback in the eye. Frollo's piercing gaze rooted Quasi to the spot, rendering him unable to move.

"It appears," His master said with extreme slowness, never breaking eye contact. "The gypsy is not the one who has placed your heart under a spell."

Quasi's eyes widened in horror. Without a word, Frollo made a signal with his hand and suddenly the guards surrounding the small party moved to secure them. Several soldiers came forward and tore Esmeralda from Phoebus' arms.

"Phoebus!"

"Esmeralda!"

The Captain, in turn, retaliated in anger and threw his fist into the nearest guard's exposed jaw. He tried to fight off the soldiers, but there were too many for him to repel on his own. Overwhelmed by the sheer number of foes, Phoebus never saw that one of the guards had approached him from behind. Taking his chance, the soldier slammed the butt of his pike against the base of the Captain's skull, causing him to fall to the ground hurt and disorientated.

"Phoebus!" Esmeralda thrashed wildly against her captor with such anger and sorrow that it took several more soldiers to restrain her.

The man who had struck Phoebus leaned over and grab him by the back of his white tunic then hauled the dazed man to his feet. About three or so more soldiers rushed forward to seize the Captain in order to prevent him from causing anymore trouble. Quasi, completely petrified by the state of his new friends, turned about to face his master but then abandoned Frollo altogether when a soldier took hold of Sophia by the waist and preceded to drag her away from him.

"Get off me you brute!"

She elbowed the man hard right below the sternum but, because of the chest armor he was wearing, the blow had no effect. In response to her feeble attack, the soldier took his other arm and drew it across her chest, thus pinning her upper arms against him. Again Sophia retaliated by kicking out with her right foot, aiming to take out the man's knee but he swiftly dodged it.

It happened so fast. Quasi wasn't even sure when he moved, but move he did. One moment he stood there as the guard wrestled with the young redhead, the next he was ripping the man away from her, not even bothering to temper his own brute strength. He grabbed both of the man's arms that held his Light and tore them away from her body. Not missing a beat, he drew the redhead behind him and curled a hand into a fist before hitting the man dead center. The guard flew backwards a few feet then collapsed on the stone ground. He did not get up again, but let out a moan of pain and fell into unconsciousness.

Quasi's breathing came sharp and heavy, his shoulders heaving up and down at a rapid pace as he continued to remain in his defensive crouch, his head shifting side to side to gauge the other soldiers. He was not going to let any of them _near_ her. Not on his life.

"Do not _touch_ her!" Though his voice was soft, the growl was harsh and menacing.

"Restrain them!" Frollo bellowed, throwing out an arm in anger and pointing at the hunchback and Sophia.

Quasi tensed his muscles as the circle of soldiers broke rank and converged upon the two. He narrowly dodged a pike as it swung down in an arch to catch him in the shoulder. However, a different guard came up on his blind side and struck him across his deformed back, forcing him to his knees. A cry of pain and shock left his lips as his body made contact with the stone floor. Four or so soldiers surrounded him in a tight circle but as one of them bent down to force him to stand, Quasi witnessed a sight that sent his already frayed emotions into overdrive.

Six soldiers circled Sophia, who, was doing a fairly decent job of dodging and each soldier's attempt to snag her. Every time one of them rushed forward to take her, the young redhead ducked and moved away faster than they could attack. She never stopped moving, because if she did, they would surely catch her. She whirled about in a sort of dance, twisting and turning just out of their reach. Quasi could have sworn he saw a smug smile cross her lips and a glint of what looked like playfulness in her light blue eyes. She was toying with them! And enjoying it too!

However, Frollo's face contorted in rage at seeing the young redhead making a mockery of his men.

"Don't just stand there you fools!" He shouted at the rest of his army that was not restraining the gypsies or Esmeralda and Phoebus. "Capture her!"

The guards surrounding Quasi immediately abandoned him there on the stone floor and rushed to obey the minister's orders. He struggled to his feet, massaging the arm he had the misfortune to fall on. He turned in time to see fifty soldiers completely surround Sophia, who's smug grin and playfulness was wiped completely from her face. She instantly paled at the sheer numbers boxing her in and turned every which way searching for some sort of escape route only to find there was none. She was trapped!

At seeing her terrified expression, Quasi, forgetting his own injuries, rushed forward to break through the ranks surrounding the young redhead but a strong force pulled him back. Two guards had taken hold of his arms while one guard wrapped himself about his waist and a fourth man reached up and seized him around the neck. He grunted in the effort to throw the men off but they held fast, their grip never loosening for a moment. This did not disconcert Quasi. It only made him that more determined to release himself from his master's men and reach the young woman who meant more to him than his own life.

Reaching deep within himself, he sought for the inhuman strength that he knew he possessed. He had always hated that strength, hated the fact the he had the power to end a man's life by simply embracing one too hard or lifting them clear off their feet. It was why he was so careful around others, so that he would not hurt them. His appearance was enough to send people running from him, he did not want to add to that horror by exposing just how much of a monster he truly was. He did not want them to see what he was capable of, though he knew it was far passed that now. He already came so close to killing before.

Still, Sophia was in _need_ of that strength. Despite almost killing a man, Quasi now understood that he only took that course of action because someone he held dear to his fragile, broken heart, was in need of it. For the first time in his lonely existence, someone had need of _him! _With this in mind, he allowed this source of strength to fill him to the brim and in one motion, threw three of the men from his waist and arms. The one still had a firm hold around his neck but the moment he was free from the others, Quasi reached up and ripped the man's arms from his column and slammed him down on the stone beneath his feet.

**_Third Person_**

**_Sophia's POV_**

Ignoring the men surrounding her, Sophia watched through a pair of soldiers as Quasi managed to throw off the four guards restraining him. Even through all the racket, she could still make out the sickening crunch of the fourth man's shoulder making contact with the stone floor. She winced at the sound and found a piece of her broke at seeing Quasi having to act in physical defense. As gentle and kind as he was, Sophia knew that he had finally found what he had always been searching for: Friends. And he was willing to fight for them.

Unfortunately, focusing all her attention on the hunchback was not exactly in her best interest at the moment. Taking advantage of her distraction, several soldiers saw the opportunity to seize her and Sophia didn't see their approach until it was too late. By the time she noticed their presence, she didn't have enough time to escape. She gasped in realization and moved to avoid two of them but another three had come up on her left and took hold of her by the wrist, upper arms, and the third one pressed the blade of his spear against her neck.

"Well ain't this familiar?" The one holding the spear whispered into the shell of her ear.

Sophia stiffened. It was the same soldier who had held the knife to her throat at the festival!

"Wha's wrong girl?" The man asked rather mockingly, her fear not lost on him. "Don' ya remember me?"

Luckily for the young redhead, cries of pain and the sound of crushing armor drew the soldier's attention from her and towards the source of the disturbance. Sophia's eyes too found their way to the one responsible for the ruckus and nearly gasped at the figure standing not ten feet from her. Quasi had managed to fight his way through the ring of soldiers and now stood before the last five that held her captive. But something was not at all well with the hunchback.

Once again, Sophia found herself staring into a pair of eyes that did not resemble her friend at all. They were the same dark cerulean hue that she saw at the festival, a far cry from his usual pale blue orbs. This was the part of him that she knew lay deep within him, a part that caused all reason and sense to flee from his mind. She would be lying to herself if she said she was not afraid. And it was that above all things that broke her heart. She did not want to be afraid of him, but this rage that lay dormant within Quasimodo was something that she could not just pass off as nothing.

His face was set in a hard, glowering stare. One that cause a shiver of fear to crawl down her spine. He stood crouched, poised as if any sudden movement would send him after that motion before you could have a chance to react properly. He looked almost . . .

_'NO!' _Sophia screamed at herself.

How could she even think for one instance that . . ! The Quasi she knew was still in there! He wasn't lost! He wasn't a monster! He was just . . . Tears blinded her vision, she didn't want this. She didn't want him to slip into this side of himself that she knew he hated. He hated himself when he almost killed the soldier, who, at the current moment, was holding yet another blade to her throat. He hated his brute strength, his disfigured appearance, and the anger that lay deep within himself. She knew he did but, she didn't want him to force himself into this state just so he could protect Esmeralda and Phoebus.

Just so he could protect her.

She wasn't worth him loosing himself.

"Quasi snap out of it!" She cried out in desperation, pulling hard against the men who held her. "This isn't who you are!"

She had to reach him! Get through to him somehow. She couldn't stand to see him in this state. She had to wake him up before he did something he would truly regret and she'd be damned to the depths of hell if she allowed his fragile heart to shatter! She would make sure he'd never lost himself again. She'd be the one to pull him back every time if need be! Quasi just couldn't be allowed to loose himself in the depths of his own darkness!

Quasi froze, his body becoming stone still and for a brief moment, his eyes flickered back to their old pale blue color. He had heard her!

"Get a hold of yourself and wake up!" She was crying fully now, her vision completely blurred by tears and she felt several sobs find their way past her lips. She stared straight ahead, looking him directly in the eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Quasimodo wake _up!_"

"Tha's enough out of ya!" The soldier holding the pike spat angrily.

Careful to avoid hitting his comrades, the man pulled back the shaft of the weapon and struck her in the head. White suddenly exploded behind her eyes and Sophia felt her body go limb from the pain that erupted from the base of her skull. Unable to keep a hold of her senses she sank to the stone floor, landing on her knees first, then pitched forward.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

It was as if someone had poured a buck of cold water upon his head. Sophia's small form went limp then fell. All the anger and rage that had boiled up within suddenly fled him entirely and he was left stunned, his mind blank. For a moment, he was unable to fully comprehend what had just occurred then, it all came rushing back at him and a heartwrenching cry of anguish ripped from his lips.

"Sophia!"

Not caring what consequences were to come, Quasi bolted for the young woman. However, his pause had been for too long and several soldiers caught him before he could reach her. He struggled, but this time it was not out of anger. This time it was out of desperation and fear. He needed to hold her! To make sure she was not badly injured! That she was still breathing! For some solid evidence that she was alive! He just needed to hold her!

"Sophia!"

He managed to free one of his arms and, even though he was feet away, desperately reached out for her. Before the young woman could fall, a guard grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her rather roughly to her feet. She swayed, unable to maintain her balance. She was clearly disorientated. But still, he continued to reach for her. As if, maybe, there was still a chance he could touch her. Reach her.

"Sophia!"

His cries were in vain, this he knew. But, he couldn't stop. Her name was imprinted permanently upon his lips, becoming the only word in his vocabulary that had any real _meaning _left. As if it were, in itself, a prayer to God Himself, demanding that she stay with him. Praying that she wouldn't leave, disappear like in his nightmares. His nightmares! He couldn't allow them to blind him now, couldn't let the fear consume him.

Sophia seemed to be regaining her senses again, for her stance had become more firm and she gave her head a gentle shake. She opened her eyes, those beautiful, sky blue eyes, and raised her head to meet his own. Quasi felt a rather violent jolt of energy pass through him. He couldn't explain it, but it felt as if a dark curtain had been lifted from over him. Seeing her, held by his master's men, seeing how much she had always been there, by his side, through thick and thin, he saw the truth of which he could no longer deny. He realized what he had been refusing to believe since he first discovered it back in the bell tower an hour or so ago.

He was in love with her. He, the bell ringer of Notre Dame, the demon of Paris, was truly, deeply, and unconventionally in love with Sophia Chevalier.

He watched as something flashed in the young redhead's eyes, a new look of determination on her face. "Quasi!"

"That. Is. Enough!"

Frollo stepped in between the two struggling forms and sent each a cold, glowering stare. Quasi however, refused to shrink back, his fear of the man he once called 'Father' disappearing into nothingness. He could see now what Sophia had tried so hard to convince him off over the past few years. The true colors of the man who had taken him in. He had endured twenty long years of seclusion and fear because he felt he wasn't worthy of wanting anything for himself.

He was taken in out of the purity of this man's heart and because of that, felt that he should be grateful for the life he granted. He was abandoned! No one had wanted him! Frollo, on the other hand, saved him, gave him a home, an education, and faith. Because of that, Quasi felt that wanting or asking for anything would be wrong. He had been given so much already so how could he possibly ask for more?

Now, now he could see the truth. Frollo hadn't given him much of anything except his life and faith. His 'Master' had taken away his ability to think for himself, had narrowed his way of thinking and made him ignorant of the rest of the world, and most of all, had taken away any chance he had to feel _real_ love. Or at least, he though he had. Quasi could see that for all his 'Master's efforts, love had found its way into his life nonetheless. Sophia found him that warm summer's day ten years ago and opened a life up to him he never knew could ever exist for him. She had shone him compassion not pity, warmth not coldness, and acceptance not rejection.

She was the one who had truly saved him, _not_ Frollo!

The cruel man turned to him and pierced him with a cold, unwavering glare. "It appears you have run out off your usefulness, Quasimodo. A true pity."

Frollo turned on his heel and faced the young redhead, who in turn glared up at the judge with a rebellious glare of her own. "You, my dear," He began, his voice dropping several levels but still high enough for Quasi to hear. "Have been a thorn in my side for long enough."

Sophia shot him a wicked smirk, "Glad to be of service, _Your Honor_."

If Frollo was phased by the intended insult, he did not appear so. Instead he turned away from her and addressed the entire cavern of captured gypsies.

"At dawn tomorrow, there shall be a little bonfire that you are all invited to attend." He then pointed to Esmeralda, Phoebus, and then finally to Sophia, "Lock them up."

Quasi watched in horror as the young redhead, along with Esmeralda and Phoebus, was pulled away and struggled against the men who held him in the attempt to reach his new friends. "No! Please! Let them go! They have done nothing!"

Frollo threw a steely and enraged expression at the hunchback before turning his back on him completely. "Take him to the bell tower and this time, make sure he stays there."

As the guards holding him nodded in obedience and preceded to drag him in the opposite direction of his friends and the young woman whom he loved more than anything in the world.

"No! NO!"

**Sooooooooo what we think? Um, feedback on this one is desperately needed. I had to rewrite this one several times before I was even fine with it. Right now though, I think this may be one of my weaker chapters. If I'm wrong, well tell me. Being a writer means you hate many of the chapters that your fans adore. So, if you're happy than I am too.**

**Just leave a nice little review in the box below. Trust me, at this point, I'm going to need all the encouragement I can get. See you next time!**


	24. A Light in the Darkness

**Lady of Myth and Legends here! I'm back after much writing, scraping, re-writing, and just plain not knowing what the heck to do next. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, but I'm back again. This next chapter has given me so much trouble that it's not even funny! I really wasn't sure what to do with this one but after consulting The Imaginative Light, I've found my inspiration and muse again.**

**Thank you so much Light for your help and advice! You were spot on!**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**A Light in the Darkness**

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Here ya go!"

The soldier restraining the young redhead flung her into a dark cell. She tripped, falling haphazardly into a pile of straw. Just as she raised her head, two others were tossed into the mess on either side of her. It was Esmeralda and Phoebus. At the sound of receding footsteps, Sophia flipped herself over and sprung to her feet just as the guards began to file out of the cell. Without missing a beat, Sophia angrily launched herself at the barred door just as it slammed shut.

"Nice try," The man on the other side sneered.

Apparently his two companions agreed because both of them erupted into laughter. Anger bubbled up and began to seer through her veins, setting everything in a blaze of its own. She let out a cry of rage and shook the bars with all her might. It was an action that proved to be both useless and humiliating because it only caused the soldiers to laugh harder. Sophia glared dangerously at the three men, wanting nothing more than to cause them physical harm. She couldn't recall a time were she was so angry.

"Cowards!" She bellowed through the bars, stretching out and arm as far as she could reach and punching at the nearest guard.

Luckily for the young redhead, the small group was standing close enough to the cell that Sophia's fist actually made contact with the man's ribs. The unfortunate soul cried out and doubled over in pain, clutching at his now bruised ribcage. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. She never expected to actually _strike_ one of them.

"You'll pay for that." The soldier spat, raising his head to glare darkly at her.

He was clearly far from pleased with her. A rush of panic hit her and Sophia quickly backed away from the bars in alarm. She tripped again, only this time, she fell onto the cold stone floor of the cell instead of the heap of straw that lay not four feet behind her. The man she had struck snatched the set of keys from one of his partners and then proceeded to unlock the door.

"When I get in there-!"

"You'll what?"

Phoebus suddenly appeared beside her, his fists raised accordingly and his feet planted in a fighting stance that Sophia could have sworn she'd seen before. His expression was blank but she could see the underlying cold steel of attentiveness just below the surface of his now frozen, hazel eyes. The muscles in his arms rippled with tension, preparing himself for any physical attack. Seeing Phoebus poised in such a way, with the way his eyes flashed from soldier to soldier, Sophia recognized this stance. This aura of battle. She had seen this before.

_"Father."_

Instead of seeing Phoebus standing beside her, crouched and poised for battle, Sophia saw her father: Jean Chevalier. Her father was tall and quite lean; made of pure muscle and power. Strong. Just as she remembered. Tears flooded her eyes at the memory. How horrible. Her father had survived the war only to come home and fall to a bloody fever. The man she had idolized her whole life, the person she most wanted to be like, had died at home under the harsh conditions of sickness. Not the ideal demise imagined for a war hero.

Sophia squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in her knees. Seeing Phoebus using the very same techniques as her father brought on memories that she had buried deep within herself. Memories of lessons learned years ago, when she was only fourteen.

_**Flashback**_

"_Father! Father!"_

_ A fourteen year old Sophia rushed across the square the moment she spotted the burly, dark haired man among a mixture of soldiers. He stood at six feet tall, was thick as a tree truck, and possessed the same, sky blue eyes as herself. Ignoring the heavy military sack that was slung over his right shoulder, the ecstatic redhead threw herself at him. Jean dropped the sack and lifted his arms out just in time to catch the girl as she settled into his arms._

_ "Ho, Ho!" He laughed, his voice deep and boisterous. "And what do we have here, eh?" He leaned into her face and squinted at her in a suspicious, but clearly playful way. "A little scallywag I do believe."_

_She laughed, pushing away her father's face and sticking out her tongue._

"_I am no scallywag!" She declared loudly, then punched the air with her fist, "I'm the great Sophia! Come to do battle in the name of the King! And you sir," Here she pointed an accusing finger at her father. "Are a spy!"_

_ "A spy!" Jean drew back his face in mock horror. "No! Never, Mademoiselle!"_

"_Yes!" She insisted, deepening her voice and trying to sound intimidating. "And I shall be the one to turn you in! Prepared yourself!"_

_Sophia wiggled out of her father's grasp and withdrew an very well crafted wooden sword from the belt at her waist. It was not like the swords the boys in town played with. This sword was an exact replica of her father's, hand-carved by Jean himself. Just, Sophia sized. It was made out of a deep cherry wood and hand her name carved beautifully into the hilt of the weapon. It was polished with a fine finish and was her favorite plaything. However, her father taught her to never use the weapon out of spite or in anger. It was merely a toy, but to Sophia, it was the most precious thing she owned._

_ The small redhead shifted into a defensive stance and held the wooden sword in the same pose she had seen her father use. She held the hilt in both hands and stood profile, lifting the sword so that it was even with her shoulder. She kept most of her weight on her back leg so when someone tried to take out her front leg, she would not fall._

"_Not bad my little warrior." Her father praised, circling her and making minor changes to her stance and the positioning of the sword. "If you were a lad, I'd say you'd make a fine soldier."_

_ "Really Papa?!" She asked excitedly, the thrill of defeating unseen enemies taking over._

_Without waiting for a response, Sophia suddenly began to execute one of the many practice forms she had seen her father do. With each blow, each swipe of the sword, she struck sure and true, her stance and footwork moving and flowing like a dance. She kept her face focused and a determination to show off how much she had practiced while her father was away drove her to be quicker, sharper, and more precise. _

_Jean watched, amazed as his daughter preformed his most basic form with such precision and sharpness. Her footing was sure and in place, her movements graceful, yet sharp. She looked every bit as deadly as his fellow companions. He smiled softly as Sophia worked through the finale steps of the form, never losing grace or strength. If only she was a boy, she would be praised highly by his superiors. _

_But, alas, Sophia was a girl. Her place in life did not call for such silliness. Or, at least, according to her mother. Jean wished Lea wasn't so hard on Sophia. He only wanted her to experience everything good in life, never mind that some of that good involved tree climbing, or playing in mud, or even sword practice. He wanted her to enjoy the things that made her happy, even if some of them were not proper for a girl of fourteen._

"_Very well done," Jean applauded just as his daughter swung the sword in the finishing move and executing a cry of finale. "I'm impressed. You have improved greatly in my absence." _

_ "Thank you father." Sophia chirped proudly, sheathing the wooden weapon through he belt. "But, Mama said I shouldn't play with Camarade anymore."_

_ "Camarade?" Her father asked, puzzled by the name._

_ "Friend!" She cried excitedly, unsheathing the sword again and holding it up for her father to see."Did you not say that all great swords have names, Papa? Camarade is fierce and loyal, but he knows exactly how much force to use and always shows mercy upon those you deserve it. He protects those who are weak, but deals justice to those who wish harm and evil upon others!"_

_Jean smiled gently before taking Camarade in his hands and gazing at it with a new found respect for the wooden object that was meant to be only a toy. However, Sophia had turned that toy into something more: a base for her own set of morals._

_ "I see," He stated slowly, looking it over one last time before handing it back to his daughter. "Then Camarade it is. A fine name for a sword meant to protect the innocent and weak."_

_He knelt down on one knee and swept Sophia into a tight embrace. "I only pray you have no use of it Sophia." He murmured into the shell of her ear. "The world is both a beautiful and ugly place."_

_ "I promise," Sophia stated firmly, pulling away and giving her father a very stern and serious look. "Camarade and I shall only use our skills to protect others. No matter what Father, I will not stand by and watch as other lay harm to others. I will shield those most in need of me and protect them with my _life_."_

_. . . . . ._

_ "Mother!"_

_ "Mother!"_

_ "Mother, come quick! It's father! Something is wrong!"_

_An eighteen year old Sophia was kneeling at her father's bedside, a cloth in hand and wiping the sweat from his brow. The strong man was gone, in his place, was a man too pale for words. His face was thin and his body so racked with fever that he had not the strength to lift his head. He lay under several heavy blankets to help him sweat the fever off, but it was proving to be a useless effort. Not even the cool water that the young redhead applied to his brow helped to sooth him. Jean Chevalier, was dying. _

"_Father please." Sophia begged, trying to stem the tears that pricked harshly at her eyes. "Hold on, it will be alright. You'll see."_

_ "S-Sophia.," Jean croaked, his voice coming out dry and broken. He had enough strength to turn his face towards her and offer her a genuine smile. "D-do not . . cry."_

_The young redhead tried to hold back the tears, but the pain at seeing her father, her brave, strong father, reduce to this, hurt too much. _

_ "I-I can't." She sobbed, folding in on herself and burying her face in the blankets next to his head. "I-I can't!"_

_ "Oh, my girl." Jean soothed, raising a thin hand and stroking her hair slowly. "My b-brave, little s-soldier."_

"_B-but," She protested through another sob, a hiccup rising from her throat. "I-I'm not a s-soldier. I-I'm . . not . . b-brave either."_

_Jean smiled, it was a very weak smile, but it twas a smile nonetheless. "N-no," he agreed sadly. "You may n-never be a soldier. But, y-you are b-brave. Braver than most."_

_ His words only made her sob harder. She didn't want him to leave her! He was the only person who understood her! Understood why she still acted like such a boy! Why she wanted to continue to practice with Camarade! Why she wanted to look after herself! Why she didn't want people to think she couldn't carry her own weight! Her father couldn't leave her! Not now!_

"_D-don't leave me!"_

_ "Sophia," Jean encouraged softly, taking his hand and trying to raise her head. "Look at me child."_

_ She did so._

"_I will never leave you," He took his hand and placed it right over her heart. "I will always be with you. Right here."_

_He placed just the slightest amount of pressure against the beating muscle within his daughter. Sophia sniffed violently._

_ "B-but-" She protested, placing her hand over top of his._

_Jean cut her off, which was difficult for him to do and sent him into a third rate coughing fit. Sophia leaned forward and pressed a cool cloth to his forehead, trying in every way to help sooth his pain. __When the fit had finally passed, Jean continued as if he hadn't been interrupted._

"_The o-one's we love the m-most," It was getting harder and harder for him to talk now. Every word was a struggle. "N-never leave u-us. I-instead, it only grows a-and continues to give us s-strength. T-then, new love, f-finds its way i-into our h-hearts."_

"_N-new love?" Sophia asked quietly, looking at her ailing father in confusion._

_ Jean smiled again, "Y-yes. N-new l-love."_

_ "I don't-"_

"_Y-yes, you do." Her father stated firmly. His eyes narrowed slightly at her, seeing through her denial completely. "I k-know w-what you've been t-trying to hide f-from us. I've k-known for a w-while."_

_Sophia stiffened in horror. He knew? He knew about the visits to the bell tower? He knew the real reason she spent so much time in Notre Dame? He knew?! At seeing her physical reaction, Jean nodded in confirmation._

"_S-so, it's t-true." He looked away from her for several long moments before returning his gaze to his one and only daughter. His only child. "Y-you love h-him. D-do you n-not?"_

_She felt her blood turn to ice. What was she to say?! She couldn't lie to him, not like this! He was . . ! But, then . . Could she trust her father not to reject her for loving someone like him? Could he except the fact that what she felt was genuine and true?_

"_Do you find that," She paused, unsure of the right word. "wrong, father?" _

_ Jean was silent again for a long moment, then spoke. "D-does your m-mother know?"_

_ "No," Sophia stated with reassurance. "She knows nothing of our friendship."_

_ He smiled again, "T-then, as long as y-you can keep it, d-do not tell h-her of this."_

_She blinked owlishly at her father, "What?"_

_Jean sighed, then settled even deeper into the blankets. He was getting weaker now and didn't have much time. "I-I have always k-known that you w-would come to l-love someone only y-you could understand. Y-you have an a-air about you that d-draws others towards y-you. A light, i-if you will."_

_ He coughed violently and Sophia struggled to sooth him._

_ "I-f he truly m-makes you h-happy," He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "T-then, there is n-nothing I w-will do . . to s-stop . . . you a-and your h-happiness."_

_ "Oh, father!" She sobbed, embracing he father tightly and felt as his last breath moved through him._

_ "I-I will always love you."_

_ Then, stillness._

_ "Father?"_

_ "No, Father!"_

_ "FATHER!"_

_**End Flashbacks**_

"Sophia?"

"Phoebus what has happened to her?"

"I'm not sure. There has been a lot of stress going about. It may just be catching up with her."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sophia began to realize where and when she was. She was in the Palace of Justice. She was in a cell. Phoebus and Esmeralda were with her. Quasi was in the bell tower. Frollo was . . .

"Ah!" She gasped, her head came up so quickly that she nearly struck Phoebus in the chin.

Esmeralda and Phoebus, who was now at a safer distance, both were kneeling in front of her, looks of deep concern on their faces. The guards from before were gone now, the only light source in the cell came from the barred window to her right. Bright, pale moonlight shined through the bars, illuminating the cell in a silver light. If not for what the dawn promised, Sophia would have voiced just how beautiful it was.

"My friend," Esmeralda reached forward and grasped both of her pale hands in her tan ones. Her voice was smooth and gentle, comforting. "Are you alright?"

The young redhead took a deep breath to settle her out of control emotions. Once she was sure she could speak without her voice breaking or giving away the pain her memories gave her, she spoke.

"I am find Esmeralda," She offered the dark haired gypsy a small smile. "I was just," She paused for a moment and turned her head so she could stare out the barred window. "Remembering."

"Remembering?" Phoebus asked, scratching his head and thoroughly confused. "Remembering what exactly?"

Sophia turned back to them, this time, her expression was serious. "Memories that I didn't have the courage to look back on until now." She took another deep breath, then settled herself down in a more comfortable position. "You see, two years ago, I lost my father to sickness. He was someone I greatly admired. I wished to be just like him."

Esmeralda's face fell and she looked away for a moment before turning back, a sad expression upon her face. "I am truly sorry, Sophia."

She shook her head, "Don't be. He wouldn't be pleased if everyone dwelled on it." She frowned, "Because of that, he's probably not very pleased with my either."

"What kind of man was he?" The former soldier asked curiously, stroking his beard in contemplation.

Sophia smiled at the memory of her father. "Actually Phoebus," She shifted a little and straightened out her father's tunic that she still wore. "A lot like you. Minus the sarcasm and the big ego."

"Hey!" The golden haired man retorted playfully.

Esmeralda and Sophia burst into laughter and soon, Phoebus joined in too. It felt wonderful to laugh again!

"No, really," The man pressed, wiping a stray tear from his eye. "What was he like?"

"He was a soldier, like you," The young redhead continued. "He had a very noble sense of right and wrong. Not matter what, he always tried to do the right thing. Even when it went against society and what others believed."

"He sounds like an incredible man," Esmeralda commented, offering her a small smile.

"He was," Sophia agreed. "He was."

"I suppose that's were you get your inner strength from." Phoebus added, smirking and leaning in closer to get a good look at her. "Hmm, yep! I'd say you probably take after your father more than your mother."

Sophia frowned, "Not necessarily. My stubbornness actually comes from her rather than my father. My morals however," Here she shrugged her shoulders. "I picked up from Father."

"Who do you look like the most?" Asked Esmeralda, clearly interested.

"My father in a sort," The young redhead answered. "But my face and stature comes from my mother. However, my expressions are very much like Father's."

Phoebus and Esmeralda nodded in understanding. It felt nice to be able to talk about random things. Things that didn't include plans or tricks. Just ordinary small talk. It brought some normalcy back into their lives again. Sophia couldn't contain the yawn however that had been trying to break through for the past five minutes.

"I suggest," Said Phoebus, getting up and stretching. "That we try to get some sleep."

Sophia nodded in agreement. She didn't want to think about the dawn right now. All she wanted, was a few hours of peace and sleep. At dawn . . well, they would face it when it came. Right now? Sleep and peace was needed. Even if it was only for a few hours. She got up and made herself a small nest of straw (at least it was clean), curled up, and closed her eyes. When she drifted off, there was her father with his a wooden sword of his own, waiting to do battle once more.

In her sleep, a wide smile crossed Sophia's pale face. This time, she was sure she would beat him.

**Again, sorry I took so long. Soooooo? How bout this one? I always wanted to do a scene where Phoebus and Esme and Sopia are actually IN the dungeons. I wanted to do more with this, but then revealing a little bit more on Sophia's father and a few of her memories seemed like a better choice. **

**Phoebus really does remind her of Jean. This also tells readers WHY she's not in love with him, despite all the really handsome qualities he has. Both outwardly and inwardly. Cause let's face it, Phoebus is a GREAT guy. Really. Or at least, in this version. Which I like better. Sophia doesn't see Phoebus as a father figure, just a man who may more or less be a brother. **

**Needless to say, if Sophia feels like she needs advice, she can always go to him. On the stuff that isn't emotional at least. Which, in my opinnion., is kinds nice. Big brother, little sister realationship.**

**I know it kinda was more of a filler chapter, but I think it contributes to the story. Please leave me a review in the box below! Next chapter? Sanctuary!**


	25. A Dance with the Devil

**Alright everyone! Here we go! Just so you know, this is NOT a filler! I thought this chapter was completely nessiary to the story's development. Oh? And for those who have always wanted your own screaming matches with Frollo? Oh boooooy! **

***rubs hands together evilly***

**Are you all in for a treat! I won't ruin it for you, but by the Heaven's above are you gonna totally LOVE this! Next chapter for sure will be Sanctuary! But please, by all means . . RELISH this chapter!**

**Special thanks to the Imaginative Light for being my 60th reviewer!**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**A Dance with the Devil**

The sudden glow of a faint, but clear, sunrise broke through the barred window of the three friends cell, illuminating everything in a eerie burnt orange hue. The light fell upon three sleeping figures curled up on a fairly large heap of straw; each of them caught in depths of dreams free of fear and terror. However, as the light began to grow, their fate drew nearer. The dawn had come and with it, Fate itself began to dance.

**_Third Person_**

**_Sophia's POV_**

She shifted slightly in her sleep, finding an more comfortable position. Why was it so warm all of a sudden? It had been so cold before, but now a new warmth had settled against her back. It was this new heat that slowly, but surely, roused Sophia from heavy slumber. She tiredly blinked once, twice, three times before her vision cleared completely. She found was laying on her left side, her legs tucked in, and both arms resting next to her head. She gave a wide, long yawn. She felt slightly better than she did before, perhaps a few hours of sleep was just what she needed.

Wait. Hours? How long was she . . ?

Sophia's eyes widened and jolted upright in horror. She looked about the cell, frantic and expecting anything and everything to come at her at all sides. However, as she scanned the small room, she found there was no one there but Phoebus and Esmeralda who still lay beside her fast asleep in the straw. Making sure that there truly was nothing in the cell that meant any harm, Sophia allowed her attention to drift to the sleeping couple beside her. She smiled gently down at them. They were just so cute!

Esmeralda was facing the young redhead, her long ebony hair had fallen across her face at some point during the night so part of her beautiful features was hidden behind a black curtain of waves. She seemed at peace however and that, more than anything else, helped ease the young redhead. It was Phoebus, on the other hand, that provided the most entertainment. He had an arm slung about the gypsy's waist which tightened on ts own accord every now and then, as if afraid someone would rip the woman away from him at any given moment. His other arm was placed under Esmeralda's head, acting as a pillow. He had her spooned against him and their legs were tangled together in such away that Sophia thought it impossible to undo. All in all, they looked quite the couple.

Suddenly the young redhead blushed a deep crimson and began to mentally berate herself for goggling at them in such a way. She felt as if she was looking in on something personal and quite frankly, none of her business. She abruptly turned away from the cuddling couple and looked for something else to occupy her time with. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else in the cell that had much interest to it. A thought then came to mind. What had woke her in the first place? She knew at once that it wasn't a dream, she would have remembered _something_ it if were and there appeared to be nothing about that would have caused her to awake. No sound of any sort could be heard except the faint breathing of her friends.

Nothing to suggest the cause of the abrupt return to consciousness.

Sophia frowned. Then what . . ? The feeling of warmth at her back felt like a slap to the back of the head. Warmth! Still sitting, the young redhead turned about to see, that through the tiny barred window, the very beginnings of a sunrise creeping over the skyline of the city of Paris. Notre Dame looked plain black against a sky of burnt orange and angry yellow. The sun! Dawn had come!

"No, not now." Sophia pleaded quietly, not even sure _who_ she was pleading to.

The sound of armor clashing against itself tore her away from the little window and to the door to her prison. Seven or so guards stood at attention on against the far wall out side the cell, lined up in an orderly fashion as if waiting for someone of higher rank to pass. The familiar sound of a certain judge's heeled shoes told Sophia exactly who it was the soldiers were expecting. The young redhead steeled herself for what was to come and rose to her feet, brushing off her father's hose and tunic. She refused to meet Frollo looking like a slob. If this was to be her last day, she was going to look clean as possible, with what dignity she had left intact. Once she was finished, Sophia stood straight and tall, her hands held loosely at her sides and her face expressionless. She wasn't going to give Frollo any satisfaction.

"I trust your stay was comfortable." The cruel judge suddenly stepped from the shadows and approached the bars of the cell, his hands hidden in his long sleeves. He inclined his head slightly, as if to make himself even taller. "I do hope so, today may prove to be quite . . _trying_, if you will."

Sophia said nothing, but she clenched her fists slightly and dung her nails into her palms in order to stifle a retort. Mouthing off to him at this point was not advisable. Apparently her silence did not please him because Frollo lowered his head back to its normal level and offered her a cold glare.

"How disappointing," He observed icily, causing her to shiver involuntarily. "Now, I wonder were that tongue of yours went. You were quite lively yesterday."

Again Sophia thought it best to fight back with silence and lack of emotion. She would not give in to her temper, nor would she speak. In all honesty, she didn't trust herself to do either. She feared she would only worsen not only her own fate, but the fate of her two friends who were still asleep beside her. If it was just herself at risk, she would have no problem with throwing herself at the bars and screaming every curse in the book at the cruel man. However, that was no the case. She had Phoebus and Esmeralda to consider.

"Very well then," Frollo's expression darkened. "Guards!"

The line of soldiers snapped to attention, their weapons held firmly in their gloved hands.

"Sir!" They answered in unison.

The minister shot a quite disturbing smile in Sophia's direction. "Wake them up." Here he gestured to Phoebus and Esmeralda. "Ready the cart. The people of Paris are expecting our arrival."

The guards offered an affirmative and one of the came forward to unlock the cell door. The young redhead made no move to run or flinch away. She was going to face this with courage and confidence. The memories of her father and all he taught her had come back to her last night. She was not going to beg or cry for mercy from these goons, let alone Frollo for that matter.

The cruel judge began to turn away, then suddenly stopped. "Ah, yes. I believe I forgot something."

Sophia felt something within her freeze solid. Somehow Frollo forgetting to mention something did not sound at all pleasant. By now, five of the soldiers had entered the cell, but only two stayed by the door to ensure no one made a move to escape. The other three circled around the sleeping pair and one of the guards leaned over to wake Phoebus.

"Wait."

It came out so fast that Sophia wasn't even sure she had spoken until the guard who meant to wake the ex-soldier looked up at her. Gathering her courage, the young redhead managed to speak without so much as a tremble.

"Let me wake them."

It felt right that they were to be woken by a friend rather than one of these ruffians who couldn't care less. The soldier glanced over at Frollo for permission to which the judge gave a curt nod. This in itself, frightened the young redhead. What did Frollo have to gain by granting her wish? Shaking off the thought, Sophia knelt down beside the pair and placed a rather hesitant hand on Esmeralda's shoulder. A part of her didn't want to interrupt the safe haven that was the young gypsy's mind. She was probably dreaming of Phoebus and being back with her people safe and sound. Sophia felt she didn't have the right to take that security away from her, but it was better coming from her than one of the guards.

"Esmeralda." The young redhead whispered earnestly, giving the ebony haired woman's bare shoulder a gentle shake. "Esmeralda."

The gypsy groaned softly in her sleep, then gave a small yawn. Sophia thought she would have to try again but Esmeralda slowly pushed herself up off the straw and rubbed the sleep from her lids. "Sophia? What is wrong?"

Sophia grimaced and wanted nothing more than to hit herself over the head for this. "I'm sorry Esmeralda."

Now that the gypsy's eyes were free of sleep, she now saw what exactly it was that the young redhead was sorry for. Three soldiers stood around her and Phoebus. All had weapons at the ready in the case any of them made an unwise move. At once, Esmeralda removed herself from Phoebus' grasp and sat upright so that she could wake the ex-soldier.

"Phoebus." The gypsy hissed harshly, shaking him hard. "Phoebus, get up."

Phoebus murmered something unidentifiable and rolled over, nearly crushing Esmeralda in the process. Seeing that he wasn't going to wake up to normal methods, and the fact that they really didn't have the time to play around, Sophia decided to take matters into her own hands. Gently moving Esmeralda out of the way, the young redhead leaned over the ex-soldier's exposed ear and took a deep breath.

"WAKE UP!" She bellowed as loudly as her lungs would allow.

Phoebus jumped, clearly startled, and cursed profusely. After taking several breaths to calm down his frayed nerves, turned to the one who had awoken him in such a rude manner.

"Sophia what in the hell was-" He trailed off once he took in the sudden change in his surroundings. "Oh, I see. Well, um . . never mind then. Carry on."

He offered the soldiers a sheepish grin and proceeded to rub the back of his head out of nervousness. The soldiers however, did not take to his humor at all and two of them roughly took hold of his arms and forced him to his feet. The other made a grab for Esmeralda but she moved quickly out of the way and jumped to her feet.

"I am perfectly capable of standing on my own." She snapped, glowering at the guard with all the intensity she could muster.

"That will do," Frollo sounded from the other side of the cell door.

Startled by the judge's presence, Esmeralda did an about face and all the color that resided in her tan face drained away completely. She clearly wasn't expecting his face the moment she woke up. Phoebus, who couldn't exactly turn his body towards Frollo, had to settle with just turning his head. Instead of reacting as the ebony haired woman had, he only narrowed his eyes at the cruel man and growled under his breath. He certainly wasn't too pleased either.

"Now that our-," Frollo had to pause to find the right wording. "'Guests' are awake, load them into the wagon. Paris is expecting us in a matter of minutes. We have not the time to waste."

"Yes sir." The soldiers responded as one.

The two men holding Phoebus began to lead him out of the cell however, the golden haired man had no intention of going quietly. He struggled and thrashed about, trying to break free but they held fast. He wasn't going anywhere. The third guard move forward and took Esmeralda by the arm and he too lead the gypsy out. Esmeralda wasn't going to be easily tamed by these ruffians and put up a fine fight of her own. As Phoebus and Esmeralda were lead out of the cell and around the corner, another guard came forward to take Sophia.

But just as the man's gloved hand took hold of her shoulder, Frollo raised a hand and said, "That won't be necessary."

Sophia's heart nearly stopped and she found it hard to keep her mouth from falling open in shock. What in the name of all that was holy was he up to?!

"Sir?" It seemed the guard too was just as shocked as she was!

"There are a few things that must be made clear to me." Frollo merely offered the soldier a confident smile and gestured to the young redhead. "This girl is to accompany me in the carriage. I will require no guard to sit with us." Here he paused and faced Sophia head on, "I doubt there will be much trouble. Isn't that right girl?"

Sophia, who at this point had no idea how to properly respond to this, only nodded in agreement. Though, she was not a fool to place any real trust in Frollo's words. But, she had to admit, she was curious as to what exactly there was to discuss in the first place. In truth, she had not a clue. Plus, it probably wasn't in her best interest to deny Frollo what he wanted. Not at this stage anyway.

"Excellent!" The judge exclaimed in what appeared to be minor excitement. He rubbed his long, pale fingers together and stepped out of the way of the door. "Come girl. Paris awaits its justice."

'_What justice?' _Sophia asked incredulously.

Oh, she knew exactly what justice. Frollo was going to make a show out of executing Esmeralda. That much she knew. She recalled the way the man had looked at her at the festival and how he conducted himself in the sanctuary right after. It was plain as day that he was lusting after her and publicly burning her at dawn was his way of saying, 'If I cannot have her, than no one will'. If the fact that an innocent girl's life wasn't at stake, Sophia would say Frollo was acting like a child. A murderess, lustful, badly behaved child.

Cautious of the man's true intentions, the young redhead walked out of the cell and followed after Frollo as he made his way out of the dungeons. Along the way, two sets of guards trailed not far behind her. Sophia smirked out of pride.

_'At least they don't trust me to be alone with him. This means they actually consider me to be a _threat._'_

Once they finally made their way outside, Frollo descended the great flight of stone steps that led out of the Palace of Justice. The young redhead stopped at the top and looked about the area. It was still quite dark but nonetheless, from the east, the sun was indeed rising. A wagon not far a head of Frollo's black carriage suddenly caught Sophia's eye. Inside, hands tied behind their backs, was Esmeralda and Phoebus. Though, Esmeralda was now dressed in a plain white dress with a rope belt tied around her waist. They must have made her change after they left the cell.

Sophia clenched her teeth together. Hard. The sudden interest in Frollo and what exactly he wanted out of her no longer appealed to the young redhead. At seeing her friends being carried off to die (_she herself would join them eventually when Frollo got what he wanted from her_), her found she wanted nothing more than to be in that cart with them. At least, she would have been in the presence of decent company instead of _him_.

"Girl!" Frollo's sharp baritone cut through her thoughts like a knife. "Come down at once!"

For a moment Sophia didn't know whether or not to spite him and descend the steps slowly or just do what she was told and hurry down. Choosing the latter, the young redhead bounded down the stone steps as fast as he legs could carry her. Once she reached the bottom, Frollo shot her a cold and disapproving look. Straightening her posture, Sophia held her head high and wiped all expression from her face. She wasn't going to give him anything he wanted. Not. A. Thing.

Frollo then stepped aside from the now open carriage door and extended a thin arm, "I have not forgotten my own manners to a young lady."

The young redhead resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at him. If that was true, then why did he strike her back in Notre Dame the other day? He was playing with her. Trying to make her feel safe and secure, then, when his chance came, he'd catch her off guard and get whatever reaction he wanted out of her. She was no fool and she still did not lower her defenses. He was going to have to do better than that. Her father had taught her how to see through deception and lies. It was time to dig up her buried instincts and let the knowledge of battle and strategy come forth. She had hidden from herself long enough.

Ignoring Frollo's outstretch hand of assistance, Sophia climbed into the metal box and took a seat opposite of the cruel judge. Once both parties were settled, Frollo gave a signal and they began to move. They were silent for a time, mostly because the young redhead was observing every little detail she could about the man in front of her, but he gave away nothing. Just a stone cold aura that made her want to flinch. She most certainly was not pleased with this arrangement.

Finally, she couldn't take the silence.

"What is it that you want?" She demanded, crossing her arms and pinning Frollo with a glare of her own. "I take it it's not for the sheer joy of having my company."

The cruel judge smiled and Sophia inwardly shivered. Goodness how frightening that smile was!

"How perceptive of you," He said smoothly, putting his fingertips together and rocking them slightly. "You see, there are quite a few questions that surround you my dear."

"And what makes you believe I will answer them?" Sophia asked, not missing a beat.

Frollo's smile grew wider and the young redhead felt her blood grow ever colder.

"Because girl," He began, a quite smug expression crossing his thin features. "I can make _him_ suffer," He leaned forward, allowing his face to come within inches of hers. "More than you can ever imagine."

Sophia immediately withdrew her face from his, pressing herself as far away from Frollo as possible. There was no need to question to who he was referring to, she knew. Fear clawed dangerously at her heart. Quasi!

"Don't you _dare_ touch him," The threat escaped her before she had the chance to swallow it.

The cruel man threw back his head and gave a dry laugh. Hearing him utter that single sound was worse than watching him smile. The man was terrifying no matter what he did or said and Sophia could feel a sense of panic rise within her. This was not a good position for her to be in right at this moment.

"Your threats mean nothing to me," Frollo replied smoothly, settling back down in his seat. "The boy has no true understanding of the word 'love'. He is ignorant of the word and any meaning it holds."

"And who is responsible for that?" The young redhead spat back at him, her glare and anger deepening. "You're the one who's convinced him he was a monster! That he's not even _worthy_ of love!"

"My dear girl," Frollo shook his head sadly. "Do you honestly believe the world would see him as anything but? The world is a cruel and wicked place, child. It shows mercy to no one."

Sophia felt a piece of her resolve falter. In a strange, horrible way, Frollo had a point. Many people in Paris would be afraid of Quasi, even if he was never kept out of the sight of others. People would be afraid and the world is cruel because of it.

The young redhead shook her head in protest, "Even so, to keep he locked away from those who might accept him, those who have no fear . . it's wrong!"

"You mean," The judge paused, raising an eyebrow. "Keeping him away from you. How very selfish of you, girl."

Sophia immediately as if she had be struck by a cart; her heart nearly stopped!

"Oh yes," Frollo said slowly, nodding his head in complete understanding. "I am now very much aware of it. Never before had I ever seen Quasimodo stand up against me. And for what? A simple, plain child like you. How pitiful."

"H-how-" She stammered, her brain not quite working with her.

"It was quite obvious." He grinned again, this time, a grin of triumph. "Quasimodo _shielded_ you. Now, forgive me, but the boy is quite shy. Not brave at all. So the question becomes my dear," He paused and leaned in again. "Why did he protect you? It is not in his nature to go against me and yet, he immediately did so when you were involved. Now, why is that?"

Sophia found she did not have an answer.

"Silent are we?" Frollo's smiled deepened once more, "I see now that it was not the gypsy that he cared for at all. It was you all this time. Well," He sank back in his seat again and pressed his fingertips together. "No matter. The gypsy shall meet her fate nonetheless, however my dear, I believe I can find a fate that even Quasimodo cannot protect you from."

Suddenly, something clicked in the young redhead's mind.

_'He's going to use me to . . .'_

Realization must have been clear on her face because the cruel judge laughed again.

"Oh yes!" His face contorted into such a gruesome smile that Sophia really did flinch this time. "What better way to teach the hunchback a lesson than to take away the one person who gave him hope? I'm sure loosing you will take the fight right out of him."

"You monster." The young redhead spat dangerously quite at the man, her anger ready to throw her into a fit of rage worthy of Quasi's. "You don't care about him at all! Just as long as he cowards behind you like a wounded dog! Even if you do succeed, he'll never be the ignorant, blind fool he was before! He'll know exactly what you are! That is, if he hasn't already figured it out himself!"

Frollo suddenly lost his smile and the dangerous, cold steel Frollo was back in a heartbeat. "Quasimodo has never been more than he name suggests. He is Half-Formed, almost the standard measure of a human being! He has no true intelligence to speak of!"

"And that is why _you_ are the blind one!" Sophia retaliated, no longer caring that she was shouting fully now. "He understands the difference between kindness and cruelty! He knows what acceptance is! What hate is! And maybe, if you had given it to him in the very beginning, he'd know what _love_ feels like!"

"SILENCE!" Frollo bellowed, throwing out a hand and striking the young redhead across the cheek.

This time however, all Sophia did was move with the strike. She stayed firmly rooted in her seat and when Frollo had finished, slowly moved her head back to face him eye to eye.

"He is only ignorant of the world because that is the path you choose for him." She stated coolly, ignoring the stinging pain in her right cheek. "But when exposed to others, he picks up on positive enforcement fairly well. You never truly taught him anything but fear and hatred."

Then, something changed within the young redhead. A new blaze of determination and confidence filled her and suddenly she knew exactly what it was that Frollo needed to hear.

"_I'm_ the one who showed him true acceptance! _I'm_ the one who gave him friendship! _I'm_ the one who was by his side no matter the cost! I have _never_ abandoned him when he was in need of someone to care! I _never_ looked away from him! I _never_ told him he was a monster!"

With every declaration, Sophia felt herself stronger. Her fear of Frollo was broken and she was not going to let him lay another blow against Quasimodo as long as there was breath left in her body!

"You tried so hard to keep out the one thing he felt he could not have!" She shouted, sweat pouring from her brow. "But you _failed_ Frollo! In doing so, in taking all those measures, it only left one tiny door open!"

Sophia stopped to catch her breath. Frollo was gazing at her with a mixture of astonishment and pure onslaught.

"If you really wanted to keep love out, you should have locked that tower door."

**Boo. To. The. YA! ****What now Frollo?! ****Let me tell ya . . . THIS CHAPTER FELT SO GOOD TO WRITE! I WAS Sophia in this one! Well, I kinda already am as since a good part of her is based off me. Yeah I know, do so many times. But . . . **

**I STILL HAVE ENERGY COURSING THROUGH ME! **

**Please leave a review in the box below. Pretty please?**

**Now, excuse me while I go run around my house a hundred times.**

***Runs out of the house***

**"TAKE THAT FROLLOOOOOOOOO!"**


	26. Sanctuary!

**Okay soooo . . . climax anyone? I know, I know, you've all been waiting for this but believe me, this battle (since I'm doing it the RIGHT way) is going to take more than one chapter. Therefore, we still have about two more chapters to go on the climax and then we have about two chapters after THAT to wrap everything up. I don't know about you, but all of a sudden . . . I'm not sure if I want this story to end! Man, I want to cry right now!**

**Special Thanks to all my reviewers! You all are my heart and soul right now for helping me this this story!**

**The Imaginative Light**

**Dragon Sister Kelsi**

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**grapejuice101**

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**Thank you guys once again! Oh, and for all of you who, like me, are competely in LOVE with HOND Soundtrack. Go to Youtube and Listen to Track 11: Sanctuary! Trust me on this, it makes it THAT much more epic! ONWARD!**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**Sanctuary!**

_Judex crederis esse venturus _

_In te, Domine, speravi_

_Non confundar in aeternum_

_Salvum fac populum tuum_

_Judex crederis_

**_Third Person_**

**_Sophia's POV_**

Before the cruel minister had a chance to act on his severe displeasure with the young redhead, the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

"Sir," A guard's voice drifted through the door from the outside. "We have arrived."

Frollo narrowed his eyes at Sophia, then addressed the awaiting soldier.

"Very well." He stated quickly, tucking his arms back into his black sleeves. "I believe I have the answers I have been searching for."

Sophia continued to glare her own set of daggers at the shell of a man sitting before her. Frollo's expression suddenly turned from clearly enraged to calm and collected. He sniffed, then turned his head to the door which promptly opened. Without another glance the minister stepped from the carriage and out into the square, Sophia followed not far behind. However, the moment her feet touched the cobblestone, four guards seized her from both sides. She grunted as she struggled with the men, but their hold held fast and true.

Frollo stepped directly in front of her and offered her a cold expression. "You can join the other vermin in the cages. However," He pause for effect and leaned down to take her chin in his hands. "After the gypsy has paid for her crimes, you in turn, shall pay for yours."

The young redhead tried to free her face from Frollo's grasp but only succeeded in having his nails dig deeper into her flesh. He smiled again. That cruel, spine chilling smile that made even the bravest of men cower before him.

"Put her with the insolent coward that was my Captain." The man spat, turning away from her and making his way towards a fairly large platform.

Sophia's eyes widened in sheer horror. This platform was vastly different from the one used to humiliate Quasi during the festival. No, this one was far worse. It was closer to the ground than the other one, a small flight of five or so steps were all that was needed to reach the top. It was larger too. However, what made the platform more ominous was the fact that there was no festival, no bright sun, no laughing, and there was a stake on the far left side of the structure that most certainly wasn't there for decoration. Several soldiers were already piling bundles of straw around her.

"Move girl!"

One of the soldiers restraining her gave her a good hit on the shoulder and the whole group forced her off to the left and led her to one of the three cages that held the imprisoned gypsy people. The young redhead felt her heart break at seeing how Frollo was forcing them to witness the demise of one of their own. And there was nothing any of them could do to stop it. One of the guards broke away, withdrew a set of keys from his belt, and walked up to the center cage.

"Get them away from the door." He ordered to the two soldiers standing guard on either side.

Both guards nodded in understanding and turned about in order to shove their spears through the gaps in the cage.

"You heard 'im!"

"Get back, the lot of ya!"

Several of the gypsies cried out in alarm and backed away as quickly as they could to avoid being impaled. The man with the keys nodded with satisfaction, inserted the correct one into the lock, and turned it. The door swung free and the remaining soldiers, not bothering to be gentle, shoved Sophia inside the prison and firmly locked the door.

"Sophia!" A voice cried out in both relief and dismay.

At her name, the young redhead raised her head and found Phoebus pushing passed several gypsies to stand before her.

"Phoebus!" She found the ex-soldier's presence to be of great solace.

Without warning, the man rushed forward an enveloped the young woman in a tight embrace. Stunned by Phoebus' actions, but not at all opposed to them, Sophia in turn returned the gesture. If felt wonderful to see a friendly face in the mist of all the chaos.

"What did Frollo want with you?" He demanded, putting her at arms length and gazing down at her with deep concern in his hazel eyes. "Did he harm you?"

Sophia sighed and shook her head. She felt very tired all of a sudden. Though, she supposed that should come as no surprise.

"I'm fine," She insisted, giving one of his forearms a reassuring pat. "As for what he wanted . ." She trailed off. She wasn't sure what it was he had been looking for. "I'm not sure. I think he was trying to understand Quasi's recent change in behavior."

"What do you mean?" Phoebus asked, his expression changing to one of puzzlement.

"Frollo knows it isn't in Quasi's nature to oppose him," She explained. "So he wanted to know what made him change. I never noticed it until now but-"

"Citizens of Paris!"

Frollo's deep baritone rose above the disputing and enraged Parisians who were shouting protests as the finale bundles of straw were placed around Esmeralda's tied form. The young gypsy looked absolutely terrified! Both of what was to come and the man who now held her very life in her hands. Phoebus growled angrily, his hands clutching into fist, and rushed to the front of the cage. Sophia followed suit and stood right beside him, wanting to hear how the cruel man planned to explain this to all of Paris.

"The prisoner Esmeralda," The minister began, pointing an accusing finger at the ebony haired woman. "Has been found guilty of the crime of witchcraft."

At the mere mention of the would be crime, cries of outrage began to flood the already tension filled air.

"Release her!" Demanded the butcher.

"She's done nothing wrong!" Sophia recognized this voice as Clair's, Pascal's wife.

"Frollo's gone mad!" Shouted Pascal, who stood tall against the crowd and placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.

The young redhead felt a surge of pride overtake her. Her adoptive father was no longer standing by watching innocents suffer anymore. He had finally found the courage that she had always known was deep inside him. The minister stepped away from Esmeralda and took what looked to be a scroll from a man who obviously looked like the executioner. In his other hand, he held a lit torch. Resuming his place before the ebony haired woman, he unrolled the parchment and began to read.

"The sentence," Frollo however, ignoring the cries of the people, continued as if no one had spoken at all. "_Death!_"

Immediately the crowd surged and the protesting and shouting only grew. Beside her, Phoebus let out a roar of rage and shook the cage in the effort to break free. However, the offending metal did not give and he punched it out of pure frustration and helplessness.

"No!" He leaned his forehead against the cool metal and heaved a dry sob. "No!"

Desperation at seeing both her friends in such heartbreaking positions almost had Sophia in tears. No matter how much she wanted to save the gypsies and free her friend, there was nothing left in her power that she could do. And she _hated_ that fact! Her hands formed fists of their own and they shook violently with conflicting emotion. She had once wanted to be a shield and protector of the innocent, had wanted to be the one to stop injustice when she saw it. But, what could she do when that very threat was a man that was supposed to _symbolize_ justice?

Sophia found that she, once again, had not an answer.

"The gypsy, Esmeralda has refused to recant!" Again Frollo turned to address the people of Paris however, the young redhead found she could not bare to hear him speak any longer and blocked his terrible voice from her mind. "This evil witch has put the soul of every-!"

Ignoring the judge, Sophia raised her head and looked passed the citizens that had gathered about the square, passed the forms on the platform, and up at the grimly beautiful edifice that was set against the now flame colored sky. Notre Dame looked pitch black when compared to the fiery haze and Sophia couldn't help but come to realize that it was not she who had to rise up and become that protector. Someone else had to be the one to save not only Esmeralda, not only the gypsies, but the Parisian's faith in humanity again.

"Quasi," It escaped her as a breathy, whispered plea. "Be the man you were meant to be."

A lone tear slid down her cheek. Whether he was ready or not, the time had come for Quasimodo, the bell ringer of Notre Dame, to create his own path in life.

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

High up in Notre Dame, among the pillars that supported the bridge between the towers, the bell ringer hung suspended in several lengths of thick chains. They coiled around his midsection before crisscrossing over his chest then, from there, wrapped about his shoulders before finally ending with his upper arms. Following the ends of the chains, one could see that they were tied off to four major pillars and allowed hardly any room for movement. Quasimodo, who's entire upper body was being suspended by these chains, was on his knees, his head lowered in despair and hopelessness.

This was all his fault. If he had never left the safety of his bell tower none of this would be happening. His new friends were now paying the consequences of his actions and because of that, Quasi couldn't bare to try anymore. Every move he had made so far only caused more pain and suffering. What could he do anyway? He had no power, no authority. He was just a monster, doomed for misfortune and loneliness. He had tried to change his fate, but in doing so he endangered the fate of an entire people!

If he had not led, however unknowingly, Frollo to the gypsies, then Esmeralda would still be safe. Free. But, because of his sense of loyalty and friendship, only succeeded in bringing about her death! Even Phoebus, a man he had once resented in his heart, didn't deserve to die like this. Not because of his own mistakes. Quasi may not completely trust him, but he was sure that the ex-soldier had nothing but good intentions and concern for everyone else's well-being. He only wished he could have realized this beforehand.

A set of chains that was wrapped about his right arm suddenly gave a hard pull, causing him to look up. Standing before him, yanking and pulling on one of the many lengths of chains, were his stone friends. Together, Victor, Hugo, and Laverne were trying to break one of the chains that held him captive. However, their success at doing so was not coming along so well.

"Come on, Quasi!" The swine gargoyle urged, giving up on trying to pull the chain from the pillar and resorting to chopping upon the metal links. "Snap out of it!"

Victor, who hadn't quite resorted to such desperate measures as Hugo had, simply gave the metal another harsh pull. "Those are your comrades down there!"

The bell ringer simply looked away from them and continued to state blankly down at the stone beneath him.

Laverne, taking notice of his rather defeated expression and lack of effort, snapped, "You have to break these chains!"

Growing irritated with his friends constant urging, Quasi couldn't help but retort harshly, "What difference would it make, even if I could?!"

He felt terrible enough, so why couldn't they just leave him in peace? There was nothing he or anyone else could do at this point. Frollo had won. And it was all his fault!

"B-but-!" Victor protested, shaking his stone head rapidly and looking lost for words. "You can't just let Frollo _win!_"

The cat-like gargoyle threw down his section of the chain and hopped closer to his friend. Hugo and Laverne shared a look and then too, dropped their portions of the metal restraint. All three crowded around him, leaving Quasi no choice but to address whatever point their were trying to get across to him. However, the young bell ringer wasn't going to agree that easily.

"He already _has_ won, Victor." He mumbled despondently, still not meeting his friends eyes.

"Now you listen to me Quasimodo!" Laverne gave a gruff humph and placed both stone fists on her hips, glaring angrily at the boy tied down in front of her. "There's more than just an innocent girl's life at stake down there! It's a whole people! Are you just going to give up because you feel there's nothing left to fight for?!"

"She's right, ya know," Never before had Hugo sounded so serious and so irritated before. "That's it, huh? Ya just gonna give up?"

"There is nothing left for me to give up!" Quasi growled angrily, sending each stone creature a harsh and unyielding glare. "I have already lost everything!"

This time it was Victor who spoke and when he did, he sounded highly disappointed. "No, my friend. You have not."

"You haven't lost _everything_, Quasimodo," Laverne emphasized heavily, her patience with the boy nearly running short.

Quasi scoffed and turned his head away from the elder, hiding his face behind his bangs. "Just leave me be!"

"No."

Laverne, Victor, and the bell ringer all turned to Hugo in surprise. The swine had a look of determination and resolve that none of them ever knew he was capable of possessing.

"There's still one guy in Paris that's never once given up on ya." Hugo stated firmly, his stone eyebrows knitting together in frustration. "One _girl_ who cares more about ya than Frollo ever did. You just gonna give up and leave her down there, Quasi? Huh?"

He knew exactly who Hugo was talking about. Sophia. However, silence was the only answer the bell ringer gave the stone swine.

"Fine then," Hugo snapped, severe disappointment clear on his stone face. "We'll leave ya alone."

Without another word or a backwards glance, the swine turned his winged back and hopped to the edge of the balcony where he promptly turned to stone. Victor looked from Hugo to Quasi, before offering his own last piece of advice.

"After all," He stated slowly, trying to get through to him using a different method. "We are only made of stone."

Again, Quasi gave no evidence of having heard him and jerked his head away. Victor frowned and reluctantly turned from the bell ringer's side and hopped over to stand by Hugo's side. Then, he too, turned back into solid, lifeless, stone. This left Laverne, who had not faltered in her expression of displeasure and impatience, to try to convince Quasi to take some form of action.

"Maybe," She began stiffly, dropping her hands from her hips and giving a deep, tired sigh. "It really doesn't matter what we say. _You're_ the one who's got to decide who you are. We can't choose _for_ you."

At the elder's words, Quasi's head shot up in both shock and surprise. But when his eyes shifted to meet Laverne's, he found that she had already joined Hugo and Victor by the balcony's edge. Her words. Those words. He had heard them once before. Sophia had said those very same words to him that fateful day in the tower, right before his humiliation at the festival.

The bell ringer slowly raised his head so he could peer over the edge of the balcony, his face coming out of the shadows of darkness and into the burnt orange light of the torches below. Testing the chains that bound him, Quasi made his way forward and looked over the side just in time to hear his former master reach the end of his declaration.

"For justice, for Paris, and for her own salvation," Quasi gasped in horror as Frollo raised the torch that was clutched in his left hand and drew it ever nearer to the pile of straw surrounding his gypsy friend. "It is my scared duty to send this unholy demon,_ back_ where she belongs!"

With that finale word, the cruel man tossed the torch into the straw and the stake and Esmeralda with it, erupted into flames. Horrified at seeing one of the few, true friends in his life dying, Quasi cried out in both protest and fear for Esmeralda's life.

"_NOOOOO!_"

Any doubt he had left in his mind was gone now. He now understood what it was he had to do. He had to save the people who had shown him kindness, acceptance, and most of all . . love. He could no longer stand by and watch as Frollo destroyed what little life he had been able to experience, what little he had gained. Esmeralda had laid harm to no one! She had only reached out to him purely out of the goodness of her own heart! And the gypsies! He saw now that they weren't all evil like Frollo had warned him. They were simply different from most people in Paris. Like him. Misunderstood. Feared.

Quasi took several rushed steps backwards and looked around at the chains that bound him. He needed to break them! He needed to get free and save his friend! Save her people! Tensing the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back, the young bell ringer to a deep breath and sought for the strength within. Once he found it, he took hold of it tightly and used it! All at once the chains went taunt and he heard them scream under the sheer amount of force and pressure. He felt several of the links snap and begin to fall away. He was so close!

Far off in the distance, Quasi swore he heard the bells sing! Their resounding notes carried encouragement and urging, calling for him to give everything he had.

_'Help her, Father!' _Encouraged the unmistakable light, playful bronze voices of the Triples caught his ears.

_ 'You must not falter!_' Big Marie's large, boisterous brass tone called urgently to him.

_"Believe in yourself!' _

However, it was this bell's voice that struck the young bell ringer more deeply than all the others. Little Sophia. Her voice was barely audible when compared to the others, like a voice lost in a crowd. But he heard her. In a strange sort of way, he heard her more loudly and more clearly than even Big Marie herself.

_'Believe, and the rest will come!' _The tiny bell sung to him, her notes ringing softly, yet firmly.

Focusing his mind and heart on that one little piece of encouragement, Quasi gave the cold, metal restraints one last tug of wild, unadulterated strength. Almost at once, the chains screamed out one final time before breaking and falling away from him completely. However, the chains were not the only ones affected by his tenfold strength.

Four of Notre Dame's columns had promptly cracked, shattered, and fell away from their foundation causing dust to rise and forming a smokey haze around him. Partly exhausted from his ordeal, Quasi paused for just a moment to take two deep, satisfying breaths before collecting himself for what he was about to do. His face broke out into stern expression of both determination and an underlying rage that lay just beyond the surface. Then, he broke out in a dead run for the balcony's edge.

_'GO FATHER!' _His bells cried to him in unison, their voice resounding off the parapets of Notre Dame.

Picking up a nearby length of rope, he quickly secured it to one of the gargoyles and swung himself clear of the edge. Now in perfect free-fall, Quasi waited until the last possible moment for the rope to go slack. The moment it went taunt in his grasp, he used his weight to propel himself to the north side of the cathedral. Once he came up against the west wall, he steadied himself long enough to judge the amount of distance he had left and from which angle it would be best to come in from.

From where he now stood, Quasi could now see that Esmeralda was struggling to breathe and the crowd itself was in a total uproar. He had to hurry! She didn't have much time! Giving himself a curt nod in understanding, he ran along the side of the wall in order to gain enough momentum to carry him safely down. Once he feet neared the end of the west side, he pushed off hard and allowed his new found momentum, along with his own weight, to carry him down to the platform below. As he soared overhead, Parisians cried out in both shock and excitement; some going as far as to point him out to those who had not seen.

However, the second his feet touched the wooden platform the entire crowd burst into cheers and shouts of exclamation. Quasi, who was too concerned about the now clearly unconscious Esmeralda, paid the crowd no mind but instead, rushed forward and ripped his friend from the burning haze. Shifting her over his shoulder he turned about just as three soldiers climbed up on the platform to dispatch him. Thinking quickly again, Quasi once more reached into the pyre with his free hand, detached the burning stake, and with all his might, threw it at the men. They didn't even have the chance to fully register what happened until they met the cobblestone of the square below. He turned on his heel once he was sure they wouldn't be getting up again and caught the end of the rope just as it swung back to him.

Then, he froze.

Something off in one of the cages caught his eye. There, standing at the front of the middle cage, was Sophia. And she was smiling. She still wore her father's dark red tunic though it was torn in several places and numerous stains blotched the fabric. She looked unharmed and that fact alone lifted his spirits considerably but now, his heart gave a painful twist. Did he have enough time to free her as well? Sophia, who was looking at him straight on, must have known what he was thinking, feeling, because her expression fell from relief to horror. She shook her head firmly and waved her hands in an urgent motion to flee. Quasi, who still had hold of the rope, looked quickly from Notre Dame than back to her.

He had to choose which woman to save.

Sophia met his gaze with a stern expression and mouthed the word 'go' to him. Again, his heart gave a painful stab. He could not just leave her there. Not with Frollo! However, he found he didn't have much of a choice because several soldiers had taken the opportunity to begin to surround him. Casting the young redhead a heartwrenching expression, Quasi turned and swung back into the air, Esmeralda firmly in tow. He quickly scaled Notre Dame and pulled himself up on to the Rose Window's balcony. Shifting his friend carefully in his arms, he lifted her body above his head and cried out to the crowd below.

"Sanctuary!"

The people below responded by roaring up at him, but this time, there was nothing to fear.

"Sanctuary!"

Again, he was met with applause and shouts of excitement.

"Sanctuary!" He cried a final time.

This time the roar from the crowd below was so loud, so full of energy, that the bells with his tower shook and rang out with equal triumph. Quasi then returned Esmeralda to his arms and climbed up the rest of the way in search for someplace safe to hide the ebony haired woman. In his search, he found a small room on the same level as his tower. Opening the door with a flourish, he sped inside and placed her gently on a small cot at the far end of the room. He paused for moment to tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ears.

"You will be safe here." He whispered to her, his voice shaking slightly due to the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

He was about to say more, however, Frollo's angered voice was loud enough to carry all the way up to the room. He glanced towards the door out of nervousness, but firmly held back his fear. He had made it this far, now, he had to finish it. He turned back to Esmeralda and offered her a gentle reassuring smile, even though he knew she could not see it.

"I will come back." He told her softly, "I promise."

And then he bolted from the room, a plan already forming in his mind.

**Wo! That one reaaaalllly to it out of me! I'm dead TIRED right now. And the fact it's 1 am in the morning and I have work tommarow isn't really going to help but *shrugs* Oh well.**

**But seriously, I post my chapters at like 11 or 12 pm for you guys. EVERY TIME! Last chapter I was a bit disappointed that only one person review and I waited days afterwards to get this chapter all planned out. Patience would be nice and please, pretty PLEASE everyone . . . **

**Leave me a review on this one! I REALLY need to know ppls thoughts okay? I mean, this is what I've been waiting for the WHOLE time! Trust me, there are going to be surprises NONE of you ever thought were gonna happen!**

**But you'll have to wait till next time to find out! so . . . REVIEW!**


	27. A Call to Arms

**So sorry for the lack of updating! A lot has been going on for me and just so you know, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last. But have no fear! I wanted to put more into this one but I wanted to update SOMETHING! I've put it off for long enough and so I'm posting what I have for now. Next chapter is where the fun REALLY starts!**

**ONWARD!**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**A Call to Arms**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

It was a site to behold, seeing Quasi soar down from Notre Dame. The way the light from the torches enveloped him caused her very breath to flee from her entirely and she trembled. Not out of fear per say, rather it was due to awe. Never before did he looked so terrifyingly . . _beautiful_ before. Again, it was not fear she felt. She stood there, a proud smile crossing her lips, as her dearest friend pulled Esmeralda from the burning flames and threw the flamed torch at the soldiers who moved to stop him. Paying them no mind, he turned and caught the rope he had flown down upon, ready to disappear as quickly as he came. He paused, however, when his now dark blue eyes caught her own.

Sophia felt her heart give a strange jerk and a tingle traveled from the base of her spine up to the back of her hairline. There was no anger or rage within these pulsing orbs (_though there was fixed determination_), but something else. Something she couldn't quite identify. It did not frighten her nor did she feel the need to fear _for_ him. It was . . something, something fierce, yet . . oh! She could not place this gaze at all! Then, as quickly as it had come, that something smoldering in his beautiful blue eyes was gone. What took its place however, was fear. Quasi's eyes stretched wide in horror and he took just a small step in her direction.

_'No Quasi!'_

Sophia shook her head rapidly in earnest and waved him off. He didn't have time to waste on her, Esmeralda's life was still in jeopardy! The ebony haired woman of more importance than her at the current moment. A look of painful indecision crossed his features and the young hunchback whipped his head about to stare up at the grand cathedral before his eyes once again found hers. He didn't know who to save. Who was more important?

"What the hell is he doing?" Phoebus' tome came fast and harsh, his hold on the bars of the cage tightening.

The young redhead knew and understood Quasi's indecision, but one quick glance at Phoebus was all she needed. The ex-captain's expression was torn between unadulterated fear for the one he loved and anger towards the one who now stood rooted upon the platform. Sophia turned back to Quasi, who, was now looking at her with such anguish and confusion that the young redhead's heart gave a painful squeeze. Gathering her own courage, she gave him the sternest expression she could muster and steadied herself.

'Go!' She mouthed firmly at him, hoping a steady push in the right direction was all he needed.

This time Quasi had no choice but to obey her plea, because at that moment, several soldiers had taken advantage of his hesitation and began to surround him. Sophia's fear for the two on the platform grew as she saw three of the guards draw swords and advanced slowly towards her friends. Her grip tightened around the metal of the cage and she felt a drop of perspiration slide down her temple. He had to go. NOW!

Just as she was about to cry out for him to go, Quasi once more met her eyes and gave her the most painful, heartwrenching expression she had ever seen. And yet, that strange fierceness from earlier was back in his eyes again. That something she could not identify but knew, somehow, that it was nothing to fear. In fact, this expression felt like . . a promise. Promise? Before she could ponder over this expression, Quasi turned sharply and swung himself back into the air. Within moments, he scaled Notre Dame and claimed sanctuary for Esmeralda before disappearing from sight all together.

Sophia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and leaned her forehead against the cold metal of the cage. Exhaustion seemed to be catching up with her because she felt strangely lightheaded, enough though she had done nothing. A sudden hand on her left shoulder startled her and she cried out surprise, backing away enough to see who it was.

Phoebus raised both of his hands in a symbol of peace and winced sheepishly, "Sorry."

Placing a hand over her heart in order to soothe the muscle, Sophia just shook her head. "It's . . alright. I'm fine."

"That was quite the spectacle, was it not?" A familiar old, gravelly voice sounded from the rear of the cage.

The young redhead jerked her head to the left just as two gypsy men parted to let the person through and Sophia was immediately met with a _very_ familiar face. Standing before her was an old woman dressed in a tattered burgundy circle skirt, a black blouse, and a dirty brown shawl. The woman's almost pure, white hair was tied up in a loose bun and a golden hoop hung in her left ear.

"Gwen!" Sophia cried in delight, rushing over to the woman and embracing her.

A small sob escaped the redhead as she realized that if it wasn't for her and her friends, the gypsies wouldn't be in this position right now.

"G-Gwen," Sophia began, trying to hold back her tears. "I-I'm so sorry! It's all our fault!"

"Oh, child." The elder cooed soothingly, stroking the girl's back and gently swaying side to side. "T'was not your doing. You were fooled, as were we all."

"B-but-"

"Hush." Gwen cut her off sharply, pulling Sophia away at arms length and giving her a scolding look. "I do not place blame with you. You and your," She stopped here and gave Phoebus a slightly appreciating expression. "Friend here, cared enough about our people to try and warn us. That is well enough for me."

Sophia opened her mouth to say more however, a tremendous crash off wooden hitting metal, the frantic neighing of a frightened horse, and shouts of surprise filled the air. Everyone turned to the source of the commotion and found that a rather large beam of wood had reduced Frollo's horrid black carriage to nothing more than a twisted heap of metal framework and utterly destroyed upholstery. Unfortunately, the cruel minister's horse was still secured to the deformed mess and could not escape. Fortunately, the beam had completely missed the black beast and therefore no physical harm had come to it.

"The poor beast," Sophia murmured softly, approaching the front of the cage again to see the animal struggle against it's burden.

She couldn't help but feel sorry for the animal. It had never really done anything but serve it's master faithfully and, when you're a horse, you don't have much say in the way you're handled. Her gaze drifted over to the animal's said 'master' and saw that the judge completely ignored the clearly frightened horse and instead went about shouting at his new captain.

"Captain!" Frollo commanded, his hair all flyaway and his hat was missing.

"Sir!" The new captain answered, raising his sword in a salute.

"Get your men to pick up that beam," The minister snarled, pointing first at the wooden object and then directing his hand to the doors of Notre Dame. "And break down the doors! I want them _alive!_"

"No." The young redhead whispered bitterly, her hands wrapping around the bars and giving them a firm shake. "No!"

However, several of the soldiers who were standing by their cage heard the order and rushed forward to carry it out. Sophia, who now didn't care about anything other than stopping Frollo from reaching Quasi and Esmeralda, saw that one of the soldiers was slow to react to the order and was dangerously close to the cage. Thinking without thinking, she stuck an arm as far out as it would allow her, wrapped it around the man's neck, and pulled him back up against the cage.

"Phoebus!" She shouted over her shoulder for the ex-captain, her hold on the man tightening ever so slightly in the effort to make sure he didn't get away. "The keys! Hurry!"

He was by her side in an instant, reaching through the bars and snatching the ring of keys from the man's belt. Once Sophia was sure he had them, she stuck out her other hand and knocked the metal helmet from the guard's head. Then, without hesitation, struck him hard in the back of the head with her elbow; thus rendering him unconscious. The man pitched forward and collapsed to the cobblestone in an ungraceful heap.

"Nice hit," Phoebus complemented, giving her an appraising smirk. "I wasn't aware a young lady like you was capable of such a thing."

The young redhead gave him a teasing glare and crossed her arms. "You pick up a thing or two when your father's a soldier."

"One question though," The golden haired man asked, a slightly confused expression on his features. "Why didn't you use any of that hidden skill of yours before?"

Sophia shrugged and fiddled with the hem of her tunic, not quite meeting his gaze.

"I suppose," She paused for a moment before continuing. "After Father died, I lost all motivation for it. He was the only one who encouraged it and with him gone-" She trailed off, looking completely away from Phoebus and the others, who were now watching the exchange.

"I see," The former captain stated softly, a look of complete understanding on his face.

Sophia shook off the gloomy thoughts and returned her attention to the here and now.

"Come on," She said sternly, gesturing to the cage's lock. "Lets get these gypsies freed and show Frollo what for. We have some friends in need of our help." Here she shot everyone in the cage with her a wicked smile. "I don't know about you but I have some complaints about the justice system around here."

The cage erupted into cries and shouts of rebellion and within moments, Phoebus had opened the door and everyone piled out. Some of the gypsies went over to free the others while some had picked up fallen weapons and began attacking any soldier they came across. However, Phoebus had a different idea. The former captain swung himself up to the top to the cage, a spear in hand and a cry of battle on his lips.

"Citizens of Paris!" He shouted, calling out for all to listen, the spear held firmly in his hand.

Sophia, who had been the last one out of the cage due to her helping Gwen out, jumped from the prison and titled her head back to listen to her warrior friend as he made his speech. Her already deep respect for him growing ever deeper. He was what a true soldier should be, not these petty minions that Frollo kept around.

"Frollo has persecuted our people," Phoebus continued twisting and turning about so as to look upon all who heard him. "Ransacked our city! And now, he has declared war on Notre Dame herself!" He pointed the spear up at the magnificent cathedral, then returned his attention to the people of Paris. "WILL WE ALLOW THIS?!"

"NO!" Cried out the Parisians, gypsies also taking up the call.

"Never!" Sophia raised a fist to the air and screamed with for all she was worth.

All at once, mayhem broke out. Parisians and gypsies swarmed everywhere, taking up anything that could be used as a weapon and striking out against the armed and experienced soldiers. Sophia whirled about, taking it all in as she saw those she knew fighting back against the cruel shell of a man known as Judge Claude Frollo. Again, someone promptly landed beside her but she already knew who it was before she turned.

"You really need to stop doing that," Sophia smiled up at Phoebus, who still clutched the spear tightly in his fist.

Phoebus just laughed. "Yes, but where is the fun in that?"

"Come on," She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the group of soldiers using the fallen pillar as a battering ram. "We need to get inside and help Qua-"

Suddenly, large pieces of stonework fell from Notre Dame, crushing many of the soldiers and, in the process, bringing down ladders that Frollo's men had been using in order to gain access to the great edifice. Those who the stone struck true, made no motion to indicate survival. Those who did, immediately ran to get out of range. The young redhead blinked owlishly at the scene before her.

"On second thought," She slowly turned and looked up at the ex-soldier. "He seems to be doing quite well on his own."

Phoebus gave a curt nod in agreement then added, "All the same, let's give him a helping hand."

And with that, the golden haired man sounded a harsh battle cry and immediately threw himself into the fray. Just as she was about to join him, Phoebus, who was now confronting three of Frollo's men, shouted out for her.

"Sophia!" He grunted, trying not to loose the upper hand while blocking the men's swords with the shaft of his spear. "Get to Notre Dame! I will cover you!"

At once she did not agree with the idea, "But Phoe-"

"GO!" He bellowed, his expression strained as he succeeded in throwing the men off.

Quickly, he picked up one of the soldier's fallen swords and tossed it to her. Luckily, her once buried instincts had now resurfaced and she caught the sword's hilt with practiced ease.

"You may have need of it." The warrior stated grimly before charging off ahead of her.

Before she could protest further, Phoebus had already flung himself into the mist of battle. Sophia then looked at the sword in her grasp. It was meant to be a one-handed blade but her hands were so small that she would have to no choice but to wield it with two. She sighed, it had been a little over two years since she held a real sword. Could she still remember the footwork? The blocks? Strikes?

_'Time to find out.'_

Sophia carefully wrapped both hands about the hilt and twirled the blade about to test its weight and get a feel for its temperament. Enjoying its weight and strength, an old familiar smile danced across her features and she raised vertically to gaze into its polished surface.

"A fine sword indeed." She whispered more to the blade than to herself.

The moment was short lived however, when terrified screams and shouts for retreat filled the air. The young redhead tore her gaze from her new found companion and looked up just in time to see a curtain of molten lead cascade from the water spouts atop Notre Dame. Without hesitation and riding on nothing more than pure determination and drive, Sophia broke out in a dead run; heading straight for the cathedral. The only thought in her mind was to somehow reach the cathedral in time before the lead struck the pavement below.

Knocking anyone and everyone she met out of her way, the young redhead burst through the retreating crowd and threw herself over the top of the stone steps just as the molten fire hit the street. She quickly rolled away from the hot mess, only for her back to hit something hard and solid. Using the sword, which was still clutched tightly in her hand, Sophia struggled to her feet and found that the thing she struck was the wooden pillar Frollo's men had been using as a battering ram.

A wave of fear washed over her and she adverted her gaze to the thick wooden doors the soldiers had been trying to breach. There in the wood, was a hole just large enough for a single man to crawl through. Sophia's blood turned to ice when she noticed what was caught in the splintered edges of the aged wood. The tattered, blood red tail of Frollo's tri-cornered hat.

"Oh no."

**Ooooo! Cliffy! Like I said, I wanted to put more into this one, but I figured I'd been gone long enough. Next chapter is where the fun truely begins! So? Thoughts? Concerns? Please leave me a nice little review in the box below or feel free to PM me. Your support and thoughts on this is REALLY needed and appreciated!**

**Thank you so much for your support readers and keep the faith! I shall RETURN!**


	28. A Flickering Light

**Alright, let the grilling begin. I know, I know. I've been gone for a very long time. I wish to aplogize for that. My excuses this time? I'm getting ready for taxes, I'm pulling longer shifts, and the BIG one? I'm getting ready for a trip to England soon. If all goes well, I may be going to University in the fall. HURRAY! **

**So yes, I know I've been gone for a while and hopefully I won't be as late with the next chapter. Please keep in mind that there is no way I'm giving this story up. No. Way. In. Hell. Just be patient with me because I have other things going on in my life at the mo. Anyway, thank you to all my readers and reviewers! Because of all of you, this story was made possible. So give yourselfs a good pat on the back!. ONWARD!**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**A Flickering Light**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Tucking her new blade into the black belt around her waist, she then snatched the torn tail of red silk from its niche and scrambled quickly through the hole. However, due to the splintered edges of the wood, her tunic caught hold and when she moved to pull away, the fabric held fast and Sophia tripped. The cloth ripped instantly, then broke free from the door's ragged edges causing the young redhead to fall to the patterned tile beneath her feet. Muttering darkly under her breath about this was not the time, nor the place, for her klutziness, the young redhead pushed herself to her feet and examined the damage.

The back right side of her tunic now displayed a fairly large rip that spanned approximately two to three inches from mid-thigh to hem. Again, Sophia murmured light curses under her breath and roughly smoothed the fabric back into place. She had more important things to worry about than a ripped tunic.

Making sure that the rest of her wasn't snagged on anything else, Sophia gave a nod in satisfaction and bolted for the spiral staircase. The only problem with this though, it was fairly dark inside Notre Dame. None of the candles had been lit and the only source of light now came from the battered hole in the front door. However, even in the limited light, as she neared the staircase she could clearly make out the faint outline of someone sprawled across the last few steps of the stone staircase. Someone clad in white robes. She paused in her steps, her heart skipping several beats.

She knew that form.

"Father!" The half-cry, half-gasp tore violently from her lips and she raced to the barely conscious Archdeacon's side.

Falling to her knees beside him, Sophia gently turned him over so he was now lying on his back. She dared not do more than that for fear of making any of his possible injuries worse. Judging by several large, darkening blotches on his hands, arms, and legs, it appeared as if he had fallen. Though, that did not sit right with her the moment the thought appeared in her mind. The Archdeacon could not have just simply fallen down the stairs. No, a more dark and terrible notion took the forefront of her mind.

"Father," She encouraged gently, but the priest only gave a quiet moan and turned his head from her.

As carefully as she could, the young redhead took his wrinkled face in her hands and turned it towards her. She tried to be as gentle as possible so as not to cause him pain but her efforts were ill met.

"Careful child!" He gasped, then squinted his eyes tight and gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Sorry!" Sophia squeaked, lifting her hands away from the Archdeacon in fear that she would only cause him more pain. "Sorry!"

She leaned over him just a little more and opened her mouth to question him on his current state when she heard faint footsteps approach her from behind. Not willing for the holy man to be injured further, the young redhead quickly spun about on her knees and drew her sword from her belt, a cry of battle on her lips.

"Sophia, wait!"

In the faint light, she could see the very familiar outline of Phoebus not six feet from her. His hands were held palms up in a gesture of peace, his own blade securely tucked into his rope belt. "It is me."

Adrenaline still thundering through her veins and breathing quite heavily, the young redhead slowly lowered her sword and belted it at her side. She crossed her arms angrily and sent the ex-soldier a dark, glowering expression.

"Next time," She snapped harshly at him, not bothering to be gentle. "Give me fair warning instead of sneaking up on me."

"I-"

Not waiting to hear his apology, Sophia turned her back to the ex-soldier and returned her attention to the injured Archdeacon. Kneeling once again by his side, she began to look for any serious injuries that needed tending to. Phoebus, realizing that there were more important matters at hand, dropped the matter at once and came up on the young redhead's left to see if he could be of any help.

"Dear Lord in heaven," He exclaimed quietly in both shock and disgust as he too knelt beside the holy man. "What happened to you Father?"

The Archdeacon moaned again in pain as he struggled to sit up. In response, both Sophia and Phoebus reached forward and gently lifted his torso up enough so as to lean him against the wall of the staircase. Once he was a tad more at ease, and after a wave of pain passed, the holy man drew a deep breath and began, abet, rather shakily.

"Frollo has," A cough prevented him from continuing but it passed as quickly as it came. "Taken leave of his senses."

Sophia's left hand, which had been resting on her knee, immediately went to the hilt on her left hip. Her hand gripped the metal with such force that her knuckles turned white. Fear shot through her and her blood turned to ice. Frollo. Frollo had done this. Of course, the Archdeacon must have tried to stop him from breaking into the cathedral. Tried to . . .

"Where is he?" She attempted to keep the rising fear and desperation out of her voice but it was in vain. Panic was beginning to take hold. "Where is Frollo?"

"Above," The archdeacon grunted from behind gritted teeth. His pain was increasing. "Searching for . . the hunchback. M-my dear, he means to-"

The poor priest was cut off when another agonizing wave of pain hit him and it took all the strength left in him not to cry out. All at once, the very warmth that dwelled within her blood left her at once. The holy man did not need to finish, for the young redhead had understood the meaning behind his unsaid words.

"No." Sophia's hand slipped from the hilt of her sword and fell limply at her side.

She felt her mind go blank, as if whatever senses she possessed had suddenly fled from her entirely. This was not supposed to happen. She never wanted any of this. Now, Quasi was going to . . . A wave of fierce denial hit her squarely in the chest and a mixture of pure rage and a fear so raw, took hold over her heart and spread throughout her very being like wildfire.

"_NO!"_

Acting purely on her raging emotions, Sophia abruptly stood and threw out a fist in rage and helplessness only for it to connect with the opposite wall of the narrow stairwell. Luckily, she had hit the wall with the side of her hand and the only result was a darkening bruise. Her breathing came in great huffs, her anger and fear taking control.

"We have to stop him! I won't stand here while that . . that _monster_ . . !" (_Here she spat the word with such hatred and venom that both men physically flinched_) She trailed off, leaving the though hanging in the tension filled stairway for all to ponder.

"I-indeed," The archdeacon agreed softly, nodding at the young redhead. However, he looked at her with sad, knowing eyes of gentle gray. "H-he is now . . far beyond my . . aid."

Phoebus looked deeply concerned at this, his hands balling in, and out, into fists and tension rolled through him like a raging river. He kept his gaze downcast, fixed on something on the floor that only he could see. They had to do something and fast otherwise . . none of them wanted to think about the outcome that was to come. Sophia however, came to a conclusion of her own.

"I'm going after him." Her sky blue eyes hardened to an almost icy blue and a determination so fierce filled her that Phoebus forgot that this was the same sweet, gentle woman he met two days ago. Her back straightened and, for a brief moment, stood taller than she ever had before. "I will not abandon Quasi or Esmeralda to whatever fate he has planned for them."

At her words, both men protested loudly or, in the Archdeacon's case, a broken raised tone. Phoebus immediately rose to his feet and scrambled up a few steps to stand above her, all the while expressing his displeasure over the idea. However, after several minutes of pointless arguing, a conclusion was settled. Sophia would pursue the now deranged minister, while the ex-soldier took the Archdeacon somewhere were he could recover.

"Very well," The Archdeacon replied, though Sophia could tell he still was against the idea immensely. "But, before you confront Frollo, there is something you must know."

"What is it Father?" The young redhead asked gently, taking a seat by the holy man's side once more.

"Something that has long since been forgotten from all, but the eyes of Notre Dame."

_**Third Person **_

_**Quasi's POV**_

A large smile crossed his face as the soldiers fled from the fiery curtain of molten lead that cascaded to the square below. His plan of defense had worked! They were running away! However, his moment of victory did not last long. For as his eyes shifted over the scene below, he caught sight of an all too familiar redhead racing _towards_ the flaming mess.

Sophia.

He called down to her, warning for her to stop but, because of the shouting and panic, his cries fell on deaf ears. She heard not a word. Quasi could only look on in fear as the young redhead raced against the flow of lead and, at the very last moment, leaped over the stone steps of the cathedral just before the molten mess hit. Realizing the young woman had just escaped sudden death, he released a breath he hadn't known he was holding and hung his head in relief.

"Thank goodness."

Though, he not help but wonder what possessed the young redhead to do such a dangerous and reckless thing. Nonetheless, she was safe for the time being and that fact alone gave him peace of mind. He was just about to go down to her and make sure she was not physically scathed when Laverne came around the corner.

"Come on Quasi!" She beckoned hastily with one of her thin hands, her stony features alight with excitement. "Let's let Esmeralda know all's well."

He chanced one last glance at the street below, debating on whether or not he should confirm Sophia's well-being. Deep in his heart, he wanted nothing more than to find her. Hold her in his arms and reassure himself that she was well and unharmed. However, his mind flickered to his friend who lay sleeping in that small room not far away. Esmeralda, at the current moment, was in need of him more than the young redhead who had most certainly captured his feeble heart. After a moment's thought, he concluded that Sophia would be well enough on her own and bolted for the little room that kept his friend safe. Esmeralda would be overjoyed to learn the news!

As his hand wrapped around the handle of the little door, Quasi took a deep breath and struggled to contain his excitement. Then with a flourish, pushed open the door, a cry of joy upon his lips. "We have beaten them back, my friend!"

So consumed with his own joy and happiness, the young hunchback did not notice, even in the faint light that filled the tiny room, that the ebony haired woman did not stir. Her form lay still and unmoving upon the low lying bed.

"Come and see!" He beckoned to the young woman and moved to leave the room but, when she did not follow, he turned back and took a hesitant step forward. "Esmeralda?"

She did not answer his call. He paused, a horrible feeling descending upon him as he looked upon her unmoving form. Something inside him screamed for him to move and, for one terrifying moment, found that he could not. Then, as suddenly as it came, that feeling passed and gave rise to new panic. Quasi hurried to the ebony haired woman's side, the unthinkable at the center of his thoughts. No! It could not be! In desperation, he gently pressed one of his large hands to her cheek. There, he felt a cold chill upon her bronze skin.

This . . could not be.

"E-Esmeralda?" Quasi's voice quivered and shook as he formed her name; his heart plummeting.

Her face remained unchanged, her eyes unmoving from beneath her closed lids. As he took up one of her slender wrists, he felt not the steady beat of her pulse. Then, the unthinkable he had be trying to deny crept forth. She was . . .

"N-no," His voice broke over the word, wishing with all his heart it was not true.

She had been his friend, one of the very few he possessed. It mattered not she was a gypsy, for now he knew the truth. Just because one is from a different culture, does not mean that makes one entirely evil. Esmeralda was never evil. She was kind and good. She had shown him much about her people, about her in general. She possessed a strength that he himself had always wished for. Courage.

A choked sob escaped him and the floodgates that held back the raging sorrow opened wide. Taking the hand that rested on the gypsy's cold cheek, Quasi slipped a hand beneath her shoulders and drew her to his breast. Fierce sobs tore from deep within his chest as he cradled Esmeralda's limp form; pain blossoming in his heart as the reality and gravity of the situation came boring down on him. He failed his friend. All his efforts to secure her safety and well-being had been for not. In the end, he still could not save her from the clutches of the world's cruelty.

"P-please," Quasi begged, no pleaded, to the ebony haired woman, willing for her to wake. "No. N-no."

He pulled away just enough to see her face, which had become paler than her normal bronze tone. Still she did not react and he felt nothing as he held her. Not even the slightest movement of her chest rising and falling. His vision blurred with new tears and another choked sob racked his deformed body. She was truly gone. His heart shattered once more and knew he could do no more for her. Reluctantly he gently placed Esmeralda's unmoving form back upon the bed, adjusting her arms and head in a position that would give her the most comfort. It mattered not to him whether or not she could truly feel that comfort, he only wanted her to be so. Even . . . even in death. She deserved that comfort, for she had suffered enough.

So consumed by grief and loss, his head bowed over the body of his friend, Quasi failed to notice the door to the tiny room slowly swung open. A dark shadow fell over his hunched form, thus blocking out the fiery blaze that engulfed the square below. When he finally became aware of the figure behind him, he found he had not the strength, nor the care, to turn. He already knew who the owner of such a shadow belonged to. His heart gave another beat, but with that beat came another wave of pain.

"You killed her." Quasi accused the shadow bitterly yet, so firmly it came out more like steel. He wasn't even sure how he was even able to speak at all. His heart was in such turmoil. "She had done nothing. Not to anyone."

"T'was my duty." Answered the unmistakable deep baritone of Claude Frollo, his voice chillingly calm. "Truly horrible it was, yet, my duty nonetheless Quasimodo."

A thin, long hand suddenly found itself upon his hump and Quasi felt a wave of ice fill his very veins. His death-like hold on Esmeralda's hand loosening at the man's words. Something . . something was not at all right.

"I can only pray for your forgiveness," The judge continued, his hand tightening slightly. "I understand your pain, my boy. Perhaps," Here Frollo paused in contemplation. "Perhaps the time has come for you to finally find peace."

Off to his right, something glinted out of Quasi's peripheral vision. He glanced up at the shadow that was cast about the wall and a gasp of terror tore from his throat. For in his former master's hand, there was the long blade of a dagger.

**_Third Person_**

**_Sophia's POV_**

Stunned. It seemed to be the only fitting word for the tale the Archdeacon wove for her. She backed away slowly from the holy man, only for her heel to catch the lip of the step behind her. Sophia fell backwards but landed more in a sitting position rather than falling flat against the stone stairs. The young redhead shook her head in disbelief. It seemed . . too much to take in all at once.

"I cannot believe this." She said rather deadpanned, raising a hand to her forehead in order to try to make sense of the information just relaid to her. "I always thought there was more to Quasi's past. More than even what he knew, but this-"

Phoebus, who was standing just below the Archdeacon and the young woman, looked quite expressionless and from what Sophia could gather from the kind of man he was, that was that not an easy feat to accomplish. Arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stared blankly at the flagstones beneath his feet. It appeared he too was having great difficulty absorbing the information handed to him.

"It explains much." The ex-soldier finally offered, though still not meeting the eyes that had turned to him. "Frollo only cares about himself, never the lives of others. He acted only out of selfishness for his own soul."

Sophia shook her head rapidly, her head falling into her lap. "And to think, all this time, I truly believed the story Quasi told me. That he was abandoned and unwanted. That Frollo had some shred of decency in him, no matter how small." Then in a hushed voice added, "I wanted to believe that he was capable of some sort of kindness."

"I know child." The Archdeacon soothed, offering the redhead the only form of reassurance available to him. A small, sad and yet, understanding smile. "I too wished for things to be different. However, they cannot be. We cannot change the past, but we can alter the future."

"The future." She spoke those two words in such a manner that both the priest and the former Captain gave her puzzled looks.

The young redhead slowly raised her head from her lap. Her face expressionless yet Phoebus could see in her eyes, wheels beginning to turn. For several moments her eyes wandered between the two men, her hands, and the stone steps of the stairwell which she sat upon. All the while mumbling incoherently to herself, never truly voicing her thoughts to them. Then, at last, Sophia gaze snapped up and her blue orbs were bright with grim determination.

"I am not sure what the future holds for us," The young redhead began, her voice resounding with steel. "However, there is one thing I am sure of. Frollo can no longer be left to his own devices. He must be stopped and I will face Lucifer's very legions of Hell in order to see that no harm comes to anyone under that cold gaze of his."

Sophia rose swiftly to her feet and went over to the Archdeacon's other side to stand by Phoebus. She knelt down next to the injured holy man and offered him a small smile.

"You have done your part Father," She said gently, placing a small hand upon his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let us do ours."

The priest returned her smile with one of his one, then reached over and placed his hand over top of hers. "May God and His angles go ever with you, child. I bless you in the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost, Amen."

After the Archdeacon made the sign of the cross, the pain from his injures proved to much and overwhelmed him completely. He fell into unconsciousness and his already prone form went entirely limp. Sophia heaved a small sigh then turned to Phoebus.

"Take him somewhere he can rest and recover." As she said this, she was already beginning to stand.

However, the ex-soldier had other ideas.

"And what about you?" He caught her arm as she turned away and forced her to face him. "You cannot face Frollo on your own. He's more dangerous now than ever before!"

"I am well enough aware, Phoebus!" A brief surge of anger flashed in the young redhead's eyes and she ripped her arm from his grasp. "But I am _not_ going to stand by and watch as he takes away the person who means everything to me! Do you truly believe after all that has happened that he is going to let Quasi _live?!_"

At her words, the golden haired man fell silent. He turned his gaze away from her for a moment then returned his eyes to her. His hazel eyes were a flame with determination and such a fierceness that Sophia had the urge to pull away from him. With both hands, Phoebus reached up and gripped her shoulders firmly, giving them a slightly rough shake.

"Do _not_ get yourself killed." He almost growled at her, his face alive with a mixture of fear and determination. "We're still engaged and I'll be damned if my bride-to-be gets herself killed by a deranged minister."

The young woman managed a small laugh, causing Phoebus' lips to also raise up in a small grin.

"Your bride-to-be or not, your heart isn't in it any more than mine is Phoebus." Here her smile fell and Sophia launched herself at the ex-Captain, her arms wrapping around his middle in a fierce hug. "Take your own advice. Don't get killed either."

The golden haired man's smile reached his eyes as he too returned Sophia's hug.

"K-keep her safe for me Sophia," He whispered against her wild red curls. "I want to be able to hold her again when this is all over."

The young woman didn't have to ask because she knew very well who Phoebus was referring to. She carefully pulled away from her friend and gave him a determined grin.

"No matter what Phoebus, I'll make sure she comes back to you."

"Thank you." Even in the faded light Sophia could see tears welling up within his eyes but before she could do or say anything, he reached up and dug the heel of his palm into his left one. "Damn dust."

She couldn't help but laugh.

**So how was this one? Good, bad, terrible? Next chapter is where all the real action starts. I wanted to get the sad scene with Quasi and Esmeralda done that way there's more room for the action and I won't have to stop in the middle of it like last chapter. Anyway, we had a nice little moment between Sophia and Phoebus, who by the way, if you still can't figure it out, are not in love with each other. They are more like siblings now and therefore, Phoebus cares deeply for her.**

**Just not in a romantic way. Like the way Quasi is with Esmeralda. He loves her, but he's not IN love with her. There is a diffrence. Anyway, please leave me a nice review in the box below and I'll have the next chapter out ASAP.**

**Once again, I wish to thank all my readers and reviewers. You all are BEAST!**


	29. Lightening Strikes

**Ahem. All who most desperately wish to kill me, please form a line. Yes, my friends, it has been a long time since my last post. I am sorry. I'm preparing to go on a two week vacation to England so I will be unavailable for that period of time and will not be making any updates. I know my posts have been coming ever so slowly and for that I'm sorry. Life, it seems, as decided that I live in the REAL world. I cannot give you anything more than that. I'm not in High School, I don't have lots of time on my hands. I work. I'm preparing to do my taxes this weekend. I'm in the mists of getting things in order to attend University.**

**And, my dear friends, I'm being presented with the chance to study abroad in the UK.**

**On top of that, I've also be dealing with some personal matters that have no business being mentioned on this site and I have WB again. Writer's Block. I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT! For some reason, God only knows, I can't seem to get any of my writing to flow. In fact, I have no idea what you will think of this chapter! I just don't know. I hope it's not bad, but I feel very wary about it. In fact, I feel VERY unsure about it. I could be wrong and it's just because I'm the writer and I have misgivings from time to time.**

**I won't bore you with any more 'I'm sorrys' and "Woe is me's". Your probably tired of my excuses anyway. Onward, if you please.**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Lightening Strikes**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He had not the time to doge the blade as it hurled down towards him, however, by whatever grace the Lord had bestowed upon him, Quasi managed to wrap a large hand around one the judge's wrists, thus staving the dagger. For several terrifying seconds, the blade's tip lingered just above his obstructed left eye and in those seconds, his knew he could not allow his grief to consume his heart. He needed to fight back. The desire to live took hold and a new wave of strength empowered him so to throw off the deranged minister, who now was plainly trying to dispose him.

With a grunt, Quasi thrust the old man away from him, sending him clear across the tiny room where he hit the opposing wall. The dagger flew from his thin hand and clattered to the stone floor, forgotten. Now sprawled across the floor and slightly bruised from the impact, Frollo shook his head in order to regain his bearings and managed to right himself back into a sitting position. However, his moment of recovery was not to last. There was a sound of metal scraping against stone, then came the all too familiar ring of a blade.

Quasi had found the dagger.

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Up and up and up she climbed, pushing her legs ever faster. Harder. Just a moment ago, Sophia felt as if a cold, icy hand had some how wrapped its stiff, dead fingers about her heart, crushing it with such strength that she nearly cried out in pain.

Quasi.

She didn't know how she knew, she just knew. There was something dark and foreboding hanging about him and her worry and concern for both him and Esmeralda escalated to a new level. No longer concerned about how cramped her legs had become or the fact her lungs burned with such intensity that it felt as if they were being stabbed by hot, white knives, Sophia forced herself to move faster and harder than before. She cleared the first staircase with no issue, however, when she reached the top of the second that would lead her to the twin bell towers, she was ill met. For the door was locked and she possessed no key.

"No, no!" She panicked, twisting the unmoving knob fervently and with intense desperation.

Her mind reeled. She needed to get through the door! She had not the time to go back down the steps and approach from the south. Quasi and Esmeralda's very lives were in danger! She could not go back! Not now!

With a harsh cry of anger and fear, the young redhead threw her right shoulder into the dark aged wood of the door. It did not so much as creak. It was a pointless effort to try to cave the door in, for it would only open towards her, not away. This revelation did nothing but send Sophia into another panic filled frenzy, causing her to pull away from the door and tear at her bronze curls.

She cursed wildly under her breath, no longer caring that she was standing within the walls of a church. Her friends were in great danger and she was cut off from aiding them. She balled one of her small hands into a tight fist and slammed it hard into the door that had become her bane. Searing pain immediately shot up her arm and she knew at once that she had done a foolish and highly unnecessary thing. Clutching her now broken wrist to her chest, Sophia gritted her teeth hard against the pain that threatened to escape her. Fortunately, she had struck out her left rather than her right. She still could wield her sword, though, it would still prove a challenge because she needed to use both hands in order to use the blade.

"Stupid girl, I am." She hissed angrily at herself through clenched teeth. "What use to them will I be if I keep acting irrational?"

She whipped her head about in anger, cursing herself for being so foolish. Then, something caught her eye. The metal panel of the door's lock was loose. Curious, Sophia stepped forward to inspect the panel closer and found that it was indeed, loose. Thinking fast, she reached up with her right, uninjured hand and began to fiddle with the metal in the hopes of finding some way through the door. The two screws that held the keyhole in place were very unstable and it did not take her long to remove the panel all together. Once she had done so, the young redhead found herself staring into the very heart of the door's lock.

A broad, confident smile crossed her freckled face. "Yes."

Without so much as a pause, Sophia stepped away from the now exposed lock and unsheathed the sword that rested against her left hip.

"I'm coming Quasi," She whispered to the air about her, hoping that maybe her voice could somehow reach him. "Hang on a little while longer."

With those words, the young redhead raised her blade with her one good hand and plunged it deep within the cogs of the lock.

**_Third Person_**

**_Quasi's POV_**

His breaths came in great heaving gasps and his palms began to sweat heavily with the new found weight of the blade clutched in his right hand. His hand began to shake and violently so, for the dagger too seemed to be quivering in his hold. Quasi was afraid. Scared so much of the man who lay crumpled before him, who now eyed the blade in his hand with frightened gray eyes. No longer were they filled with eased confidence and cold indifference.

No. Now, they were reduced to this overwhelming fear. Fear for his own life. A life that Quasi now saw as nothing more than pathetic. Frollo, for he was no longer 'Master' in Quasi's eyes, had done nothing but misguide him about the world, causing him to fear others and hate himself. The man who Quasi at one point looked to as 'Father' was nothing more than wishful thinking, a dream of the young hunchback's own making. A false hope. A lie.

Judge Claude Frollo was never a father and Quasi cursed himself for his own blindness. Why had he not seen the truth? Perhaps, the answer lied with himself. It was because he did not _wish_ to see it. He _choose_ not to see past the false praises and the hurtful words that were often spoken to him. He _choose_ to ignore Sophia and all her warnings, her reliable insight. In the past, the young redhead had always spoken the truth to him. She had never lied. She had done many things in order to keep him safe and happy. She would never accuse Frollo of never truly caring about him unless it was the truth. The proof was now resting in his own hand. Frollo, just now, had tried to end his life.

Quasi did not know who he was more angry with: Claude Frollo or himself.

"L-listen to m-me, Q-Quasimodo-" The judge pleaded from his pace on the floor, a thin pale hand outstretched in a placating manner.

The hunchback turned his raging deep, blue eyes on the minister, his jaw set and the hand that held the dagger lifted slightly as if to strike the man if he made any sudden movements.

"No," Quasi choked, trying to keep the pain of Esmeralda's loss out of his tones, trying desperately to keep his voice even and angry. "_You_ are the one that must listen."

The judge physically recoiled from the hunchback's fierce gaze and biting tones. Surprisingly, Quasi felt a twinge of satisfaction that he was causing Frollo such uncertainty and fear. For after all the pain and torment the cruel man had caused Esmeralda and her people, he deserved someone treating him in the same manner. Still breathing heavily and quite unevenly, Quasi raised his free hand and pointed accusingly at the minister, his voice coming out harsh and bitter.

"All my life you have told me that the world is a dark, cruel place." He paused for a moment, thinking quickly for his next words. "But now-"

Quasi chanced a quick glance to the unmoving figure who rested upon the small bed behind him. He felt his anger and loss surge again and snapped his gaze back to Frollo, who now looked as if he wanted nothing more than to sink into the very stonework of the wall behind him.

"Now," The hunchback continued, his face set in a grim expression and his eyes alive with anger and deep hurt. "Now, I see the only thing dark and cruel about the world is people like _you_."

He spoke the last word with as much hatred and bitterness as he possibly could, allowing his pain and loss to flow into his voice. He wanted to _hurt_ the minister. Hurt him as he had hurt him. Let him squirm and writhe in the agony that Quasi did now. The hand that held the blade tightened and suddenly, the young hunchback found himself starting towards the judge. He wanted nothing more than the shell of the man before him to experience the heart wrenching pain and agony that he himself was feeling at this moment. Once again, the urge to kill another being had overtaken him.

Only this time, there was no one to pull him back from the darkness that resided in his own heart.

_**Third Person **_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Ga!" She grunted, twisting the blade further into the heart of the lock with her good hand. "Come on, _break!_"

With one final twist, Sophia heard the lock giving way to physical force and then came an all too familiar _click!_ Signaling, at last, that the door was now unlocked. Wasting no time, Sophia pulled her sword out of the now twisted metal mechanisms, sheathed the blade back into her belt, and roughly pulled the door open with her uninjured hand. Not missing a beat, the young redhead bolted out of the stairway and out into the open air. Below, the Parisians were now driving back Frollo's men with common tools and even brandishing flaming torches.

However, Sophia paid no heed to the ensuing chaos below. Her mind was focused on only one thing: Saving Quasi and Esmeralda. Suddenly, Sophia pulled herself to a stop before the bridge. She thought she heard . . .

"No, you . . listen . . told me . . . world dark . . . -cause of . . people like _you_ . . !"

That was Quasi's voice! But, where was it coming from? It sounded far off and yet, like it was ahead of her. Shaking her head in retribution for her pause, Sophia darted over the bridge and raced for the south tower, praying to the Lord Almighty that she would make it in time. Once she reached the opposite side of the bridge she kept running, heading for the entrance to Quasi's home.

As she ran, she passed several side doors that usually led to small rooms for visitors seeking refuge. However, after running for several feet, she stopped, her brow furrowed in confusion. One of the doors she had passed was open! The icy cold, dead hand was back upon her heart, clutching it in a tight, unwavering fist. Sophia turned and backtracked the way she had come, searching for the one open door she had seen.

Not that one. Not that one either. No. No. N-

"Yes!" She cried in triumph as she noted the fifth door whose door was swung inward.

However, her joy was short lived. For inside the little room stood her most trusted friend, the one who unknowingly possessed her heart, standing over a fallen Claude Frollo, a dagger poised to strike the cruel man. Behind them, laid carefully over a tiny bed, was Esmeralda. But, something was not right. She didn't appear to be moving . . or . . or even breathing for that matter!

Sophia's attention was pulled back to Quasi however, when he stepped even closer and pulled back the dagger to strike the man upon the stone floor. Her heart stopped and raw panic swept over her like a dark shadow.

"Quasi, _NO!_"

**_Third Person _**

**_Quasi's POV_**

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a familiar voice cried out his name. However, his thoughts and emotions warred violently within him and his mind became so clouded that he could not discern who exactly the voice belonged to. His anger towards Frollo escalated to a whole new level and all he could think about was that Esmeralda was gone because of this man. He killed her. The voice that spoke of reason and sense had all but faded from the recesses of his mind, leaving him with only his rage, loss, and pain. Thus, he raised the blade in preparation to strike the one who had torn his friend from him.

Something solid collided hard against his chest, small arms wrapped themselves tightly around his middle, and something wet began to soak the front of his tunic. And a voice. A voice calling his name. No, not calling. _Begging_. This voice, so frantic and frightened, was pleading with him.

"Don't Quasi! Put it down! Please, please put it down!"

Through the fog of blind rage, he recognized the owner of the voice. A face flashed through his mind. The image of a girl in her early twenties with short cropped, wild curly hair the color of faded copper appeared clearly in his thoughts. Her eyes were like a pure, cloudless sky and they shone with barely contained laughter. Her ivory skin was dotted with numerous light brown freckles, the greater majority of them covered her face and arms. Despite all of the young woman's features, it was her smile however, that captured his attention the most and for one reason or another, made him almost breathless.

"_He's not worth it! Put down the knife!"_

It was wide, so wide that he wondered vaguely how it could possibly be contained on one woman's face. The corners of her light, peach colored lips almost seemed to touch her ears. But, unlike most women, her lips were not pursed together as if afraid to truly should their mirth. No, this young woman's lips were parted wide from each other, her whole line of upper teeth glittering brightly in the sunlight. In fact, the woman's smile seemed to radiate a warmth all it's own and just seeing it made him feel as if there had never been a dark day in his life! It was the physical form of laughter and kindness and there was only one person in his whole world that had a smile like this one. Only one who could put the very sun to shame with its brightness and warmth.

Sophia.

Immediately, by whatever spell he had been placed under, the woman's image that was his heart shattered. Quasi was then thrust back into the dark reality of the real world and the frantic, pleading voice broke through the thick fog that shrouded his mind.

"_Please_, Quasi!" The voice had become a whispered plea, as if all energy and hope had left it. "Do not kill him."

Dazed and not quite fully coherent, the young hunchback glanced downward for that was where the voice had originated from. There, with small arms wrapped about him in a vice-like hold and face buried deep within the folds of his tunic, was the shaking, battered form of Sophia. Her dark red tunic, which fitted her more like a dress rather than a shirt, was torn and tattered in several places and one side of it had slipped from her shoulder, exposing the pale skin underneath. Small cuts dotted her hands, what they were the result of he did not know but they appeared shallow and the blood that had seeped from them was dry and cracked. Her wild curls, which vaguely tickled his chin, was in such disarray that they gave off the appearance of a wind battered bush. Most notably, however, was how violently her shoulders shook, as if an earthquake rocked within her small frame.

At that moment, Quasi felt as if a stone block had struck him. Hard. Sophia was crying. No, she was not just crying, she was _sobbing!_

"Put down the knife, Quasi." Her words were so low, so quiet, that he almost did not catch them.

Her voice. Never before had he heard it so broken, so helpless, so . . . vulnerable. She had always been his pillar of strength. An unbreakable force that held him upright, that never cracked or faltered. She had cried before yes, she had broken down and showed him pieces of herself that no one else ever had the chance of witnessing. The loss of her father had certainly damaged her spirit and it had taken her days for her to smile again. All he had been able to do was hold her. Hold her and reassure her that the pain would eventually lessen. That he would not leave her alone to battle her grief and pain. That she would never be alone. However, this . . . this was worse. So much worse.

Never before had he seen her this fragile, in such grief and pain.

Something slipped from his hand, what it was he could not tell nor did he care. Sophia was suffering, she was in deep pain, and all he could think about was how to stop it from hurting her more. Automatically his great arms folded about her shoulders, drawing her sobbing form ever closer to him. One of his hands found itself entangled in her wild copper locks while the other rested lightly on the shoulder who's sleeve had fallen. Gently, as if handling the most precious of china, Quasi lifted the hand wound tightly in her curls and let it drift comfortingly through them in the effort to ease her shaking form.

"S-Sophia?"Oh how cracked and unsure his voice sounded!

It trembled and wavered and he seemed almost unable to convince himself that she was real! He spoke as if he had never seen her before! No, that was not quite right. More that he was shocked to find her in such a state, clinging to him as if he would disappear before her very eyes. Yet, at the mere waver of his soft tones, the small redhead quickly drew back her head and gazed up at him with such wonderment and elation, that he felt the feeble muscle within his chest quiver. Be it in awe or guilt, he knew not.

"Quasi?"

Her voice was hoarse, it cracked upon his name, and disbelief sounded within her tone yet, ever so slowly, a smile crossed her face and her eyes brighten with a light he had never seen. Stray tears flowed freely from her blue orbs and for several moments that felt like days to him, the world stood still as he met her gaze. In those moments, something passed between them. What it was he did not know or understand. Only . . only that she had saved him, yet again, from the darkness of his own heart. He had been about to commit something terrible, this much he knew!

Yet, Sophia . . Sophia had stopped him. Somehow, yet again, in his most dangerous state of mind while his heart was filled with the most terrible, fierce anger that put all his past episodes to shame, she had stopped him. From what, he could not remember. What had he almost done?

Something black moved off to his right, a movement so quick he barely had time to register it. Something silver flashed in the light of the fires that raged in the square below and in a split moment, Quasi realized what that silver was. The dagger. Then he remembered. The pain Esmeralda's loss, his realization that Frollo cared nothing for him, the attempt on his life, Quasi defending himself and throwing his former master to the ground, and then rage. A rage like none of the others he had felt before. To his horror, Quasi realized he had _welcomed_ it. He had _embraced_ it.

He had taken up the fallen weapon and he had tried to . . .

The stream of now renewed forgotten memories halted when the outlined form of Claude Frollo rose from his place upon the floor, lunged forward and snatched the dagger in hand. With a cry of rage upon his thin lips, the minister held the blade aloft and struck out at the nearest target he could find.

Sophia.

**Yeah, those who REALLY want to kill me? You can do so now. I know, CLIFF HANGER! At this point, it's more for my benefit than yours. Why? SO I DON"T LOSE WHAT LITTLE CREATIVITY IS LEFT IN ME!**

**I need a starting point from next chapter and I know all of you are like . . . GET TO THE FRICKIN FIGHT ALREADY! **

**This time my friends, and yes I know I keep saying this and it never happens, NEXT CHAPTER is the fight. For sure. Yeah, I know I keep saying it and it never comes, but it will! NEXT TIME FOR SURE!**

**This could be just me not wanting to finish the story. Not because I've given up or have lost interest (lets face it, that will NEVER happen) but rather that this story has grown so much on me that I don't think I can bear to have it end. You know? Maybe it's just me dragging it out so not to really complete it and have to say good bye. Is that alright? I mean, this is my baby!**

**Yeah I'm the author of 12 stories but most of those are one shots that give the reader so new insight on my favorite characters and their inner most thoughts. The four that are not (my Naruto, Power Rangers, Transformers, and of course HOND) are the ones that I've tried to actually piece together a plot and storyline. Two of those have pretty much been failures (Naruto and Power Rangers). Don't even ATTEMPT to read them. Trust me. You won't believe its me that wrote them.**

**My only redeeming Multi-Chapter stories have been my Transformer and HOND stories. They have both been quite a hit and have a very large score of supporters. Here's a fun fact for you. Did you know that The Light Within You has the most reviews than any story I've written? A whole 85 reviews and is my second most viewed story with just over 4,000 views! My Transformers story has this one beat with over 8,000 views but only has 40 reviews! **

**Anyway, I can't say when I'll post next. Hopefully this much needed vacation to the UK will help me relax and find some new inspiration. I promise you this story is not abandoned. No way in hell am I going to let that happen! Just . . . give me time everyone. I'm pretty much on the end of my rope as far as energy and time is considered. I will return.**

**Please, as always, leave me a nice review in the box below. At this point in time, encouragement is well needed and appreciated. I love you all from the bottom of my heart.**


	30. Thunder Rolls

**Hello everyone! I'm back! And with a nice, new chapter in tow! It's nice and long so I hope it lives up to your expectations. I know I'm a day late but I pray you can forgive me. The next one will not be so, this I promise. Well, I wouldn't keep you waiting, READ ON!**

**Chapter Thirty**

**Thunder Rolls**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Nothing could compare to the vast amount of relief that washed over her at this very moment. For several moments ago, she feared she had lost the one person her whole world centered around. A world that had almost completely fallen to void when his hold upon the dagger refused to loosen. She had been terrified when it seemed he could no longer hear her voice, when he seemed to be too far away to pull himself out of his rage. So, she did the only thing she felt she could do. She placed herself between Quasi and the deranged minister who lay fallen upon the stone floor. Sophia clung to him, using herself as a shield in the effort to hold him at bay so he could not lay further harm to Frollo.

As much as she truly hated and despised the man, Frollo was not worth Quasi losing his innocence over. The gentle hunchback did not need his "father's" death, his blood, upon his hands. It would cripple him, tear him apart from the inside out and Sophia refused to give him the amount of rope it would take to hang himself; to give him any reason to believe he truly was a monster. If she had stood by and did nothing, if she allowed Quasi to kill the cruel man, she would never forgive herself for doing so. Quasi meant too much for her to just let him kill another human being. Even if that being happened to be the one who deserved death most of all.

She pulled her head away from his tunic and slowly raised her head to met his gaze, Sophia could see a mixture of emotions flashing through his pale blue eyes, which were now brimmed with unshed tears. Comprehension and awareness had returned to those beautiful orbs, the light had come back to them. Thus, allowing him to become perfectly aware of his surroundings. She tried to contain the fear and terror she had felt moments before but, found that she could no longer do so. Of course, the joy and relief at finding him once again his normal self also added to the emotional wave she had just ridden and, as a result, a choked sob rushed passed her lips.

"Quasi?" She couldn't help forming his name, for it gave her comfort and put her fraying nerves at ease. It made her feel safe and thus, she couldn't fight the wide smile that followed.

She felt something shift upon her hair then, startling her at first. Then, came to realize it was just one of Quasi's large hands that was entangled within her curls. The other, she was now aware, rested lightly upon her left shoulder, which was bare do the sleeve slipping and sliding about as she ran in search for him and the minister who followed. However, her mind could not grasp the disbelieving fact that Quasi was safe; he had not been harmed. And, even more importantly, he had not dealt harm to Frollo. For a brief moment in time, all was well with her world. All was right.

"S-Sophia?" Quasi's trembling, soft tones brought her out of her sense of peace, for his voice shook with such shock and uncertainty.

She opened her mouth to reassure him, to give him comfort. However, in the faint light of the fires below, something dark moved off to her left and she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye. Just as she turned her head out of curiosity, the flash she had witnessed made itself clear. It was a dagger.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

_With a cry of rage upon his thin lips, the minister held the blade aloft and struck out at the nearest target he could find. Sophia_.

He felt the beating muscle that resided within his chest nearly cease in its rhythmic course. Then, the crushing fear and panic was suddenly overwhelmed with a new desire. A far more prominent and potent one. A bare instinct he never knew he had ever possessed. Defend. Protect. Confront which threatened them. Tightening his hold upon the young woman before him, Quasi quickly spun Sophia out of the path of the blade and towards the safety of the shadows behind him. He heard her stumble and squeak in surprise at his roughness but, for once, he did not apologize for his handling. He was too concerned with not allowing the cursed weapon to pierce her body. He took several steps back from the man in order to put as much distance between him and the young woman he guarded behind him. Quasi shifted his body into a defensive position, if anything to keep Sophia hidden from his former master's madness.

Frollo, who had thrown as much power behind the blade as he could muster, lost his balance the moment the knife he held had nothing to strike. With his equilibrium upset, he nearly fell to the stone floor once again but managed to regain control over his body and right himself. His hair now was so out of sorts that he rather resembled one of the city's unkempt beggars that lined the streets of Paris. His steely gray eyes flashed in rage and when he spoke, his tones held nothing but contempt and disgust.

"I see it now," He rasped, his clawed hand which still held the dagger was beginning to shake uncontrollably. Whether it was due to his rage or something else entirely, Quasi did not know.

"T'was not the gypsy who spelled you after all." The minister's eyes looked beyond his old charge and settled on the young redhead who was now rising to her feet. His lip curled into a snarl as he observed Sophia and spat, "It was the_ peasant_ girl."

Quasi felt his prior fear return as the minister's face contorted in rage and vile disgust as he gauged the young woman who stood behind him. Nevertheless, despite his apprehension and terror, he knew he could not allow his former master to advance any further. If he did so, Sophia's life would be in utter peril. As well as his friend who still lay unmoving upon the little bed just off his right. Both of them needed him more at this moment than they ever had before. He would not let Frollo hurt them not on his life, as useless and monstrous as it was.

Frollo straightened himself to his full height and swung the blade to his side, thus rendering him in profile, allowing it to hang suspended between the young hunchback and himself. Quasi's chest constricted at the motion but held his ground.

"Perhaps," The minister mused softly, though there was nothing 'soft' in the way he presented himself. "This would be a more fitting end for you, dear boy. Defending those who have tried so hard to protect you."

Quasi's eyes widened in both shock and confusion. Protect him? What did Frollo mean by such words?

"Oh yes," The cruel judge suddenly smiled wickedly, taking note of his former charge's confusion and insecurity. "They most surely tried to shield you. Especially," Here he paused and if it was at all possible, his smile widened all the more. "That poor soul behind you."

He could not help but turn to look behind him and gaze at the young redhead in astonishment. She had tried to protect him? Memories of the past few days came flooding back to him. Memories of the festival, its aftermath and how she cared for him afterward, how she disguised herself as a lad in order to see him despite his master's hunt for her, last night when she begged the gypsies to let him go, and when Frollo's men had come and began to tear them apart from one another she saved him from killing another living being yet again. Perhaps there was truth in his former masters words. Perhaps, all this time, she _was_ protecting him.

Sophia stood tall against the shadows of the room, her expression unreadable but whatever its meaning, Quasi could tell by the way she looked passed him that it was not meant for him, but for the shell of a man who stood beyond. He turned his attention back to Frollo, who again laughed at whatever expression that betrayed his face.

"Yes Quasimodo," The minister grinned, twisting the hilt of the blade in his hand. "She and I had quite the conversation this morning. Would you care to hear the essence of it?"

"Say another word Frollo and I will see to it you never speak again!"

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She never intended for the words to come, they just slipped passed her lips before she had the chance to bite them back. Still, fear drove her to speak. She could not let Frollo tell Quasi just what that conversation entailed. Especially when that conversation included things she herself planned to tell him. Quasi did not deserve to have her feelings told to him by the very man who sought to kill him. Kill them all at this point. He would feel betrayed, hurt by the fact Sophia had not told him herself. This was not something she intended to occur. She would not allow Frollo to taint what she had been trying to build for the past five years. For five years she had come to grips with her feelings for Quasi and for five years she had been trying to find a way to tell him that would not frighten him or cause him to turn her away. She would not let Frollo ruin the deep friendship and love she had for Quasi. Not on her life!

Both men turned their gaze to her; steely gray and pale blue found her and suddenly Sophia felt as if she had opened her mouth only place her own foot into it. She swallowed hard against the growing lump in her throat.

"Sophia?" Quasi's confused tone shook slightly and his eyebrows furrowed. It was clear to her he had not an inkling of what to make of her threat against the minister.

The young redhead opened her mouth in order to convey an explanation of some sort but she never had the chance.

"Q-Quasi?"

The voice was weak and came out as nothing more than a small, barely audible moan. Yet, it's resonance was deafening. There was only one person she knew that had such a unique and exotic voice.

_'Esmeralda!'_

She looked over at the small bed and the sight she saw there sent relief flooding through her body like a dam being broken. The gypsy woman struggled to sit up, still clearly effected by the smoke she had inhaled while tied to the pyre. Nonetheless, her friend was alive!

"E-Esmeralda?" Quasi's voice quivered, a look of pure shock and joy crossing his face. He immediately bounded to her side, helping her to sit upright so she could receive a good breath of air.

Sophia's joy at seeing her friend alive was short-lived however. As she watched Quasi tenderly seeing to the woman's health, out of the corner of her eye, Frollo made a motion. And it was not one for the better. The deranged, and clearly enraged, minister threw aside the dagger and instead, drew the longsword that was belted at his side.

"The witch lives," He cursed angrily, his eyes flashing with a look that spelled death.

Quasi, who was still seated upon the little bed, instinctively drew the injured Esmeralda closer to him, placing one of his strong, thick arms about her shoulders. His free hand came around to cup the back of her head, which he drew to his shoulder to shield her eyes from the shimmering blade.

"NO!" He cried out in terror, his eyes grew wide as they fell upon the new weapon that was clutched in Frollo's hand.

The minister swiftly advanced towards the pair, a hostile and angered glint in his steel gray eyes that held no intention of allowing them to live. Sophia's heart gave a panicked lurch and her stomach immediately dropped out from beneath her. He was going to slay them right then and there! Before her very eyes! She had to act! Had to _do_ something!

Frollo raised the steel weapon in preparation to strike the pair but, as the blade swung in a downward arch, an obstacle he did not expect, intervened. A sword, held by the person he least expected, countered his very own. A pair of sky blue eyes, which burned with a light and a fierceness he had never seen before, met his own steel-gray ones and as he looked within the depths of those bright orbs, the minister felt a shiver of fear he had not experienced since the incident that set these very events in motion.

Sophia held her ground against the strength of Frollo's blade. As old as the man was, he still had enough strength to best her. That is, if she wasn't on her guard. She tried to put the pain that flared from her still broken left wrist out of her mind, because for this, she was going to require the use of both hands. This was not one of her father's bouts, nor was it a simple street skirmish with some local street urchin, or even a brawl with a common thief. This was a battle. A true battle. A fight for life and death. One misstep, and her life, and the lives she now shielded, were forfeit. There was no room for error, no 'try again'. This was real. And it was only going to become more difficult.

"One more step Frollo, and I will do you the kindness of removing your head." The young redhead growled, her voice so low and deep that one would have thought a lion had spoken.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He blinked, unsure if what was passing before his eyes an illusion or some figment of his imagination. There, a mere foot from him, standing firm against the light of the burning flames that continued to rage through the still opened door, was Sophia Chevalier, a sword of her own clutched firmly in her two hands. Her back was turned to him, her face no longer visible to his sight. However, her back was straight and the stance she now held was that of a soldier. There was an air about her that made him feel as if he was staring at a whole different Sophia. A Sophia he was not sure he liked in the slightest. A Sophia that, dare he say it, seemed . . . dangerous.

Dangerous was not how he would have liked to describe her and yet, dangerous she seemed. A force that should not have been riled, an ire that should not have been raised, and someone who one should have never, ever been threatened.

"Quasi," It sounded not like her voice. It was too gruff, her voice was never gruff, and tight, strained even. As if she was holding back a dam ready to burst. "Get Esmeralda out of here."

It took him a moment to find his voice and when he did, it came out broken and very frightened. "Sophia, n-no-. Y-you can't-"

She grunted roughly as she struggled to hold back the blade held by his former master. Claude Frollo's face had erupted into a full on grimace as he strained against the young woman's blade, trying to gain the upper hand of the situation. Quasi noted the muscles in her forearms bunched under the sheer strain of holding back the elder man's raw strength. She could not hold him back for much longer before he disarmed her. Or, quite possibly, worse.

"Go." Her voice was terse, her tone insistent, and her very posture told him that there was a limited amount of time before her own strength failed her and the three of them would be slaughtered. "Get her out of here."

He couldn't possibly-. How could she ever expect him to leave without her? She had done so much for him, risking her life over and over- . It was too much. He couldn't do such a thing. He wasn't able.

"I-" Quasi began, hoping to convince her otherwise.

"_Yes!_" The young woman insisted curtly, cutting him off as if she knew what he was about to protest. Her arms faltered for a moment but then a new wave of determination fueled her to keep up her defense. "_You can!_ Now . . _GO!_"

Never before had he ever wanted to disobey a request from the young redhead. Never before did he want to stay beside her despite her wishes for him to leave. He didn't want to leave her, to abandon her to the mercy of his master. Not to the one who had dealt so much pain and hurt to his friends. He couldn't obey. He couldn't just leave her for Frollo to do with her as he wished. Not when he finally realized just how much she had come to mean to him.

Suddenly, something shifted slightly in his arms.

Reminded that he held Esmeralda, Quasi glanced down and saw that what ever little color she had gained, disappeared entirely. Her brown eyes focused in and out and a moment later, she once again fell into unconsciousness. It was as if she took one step forward in regaining her health and then two steps back into the darkness that had claimed her from the beginning. It was in that moment that he realized Esmeralda could not remain here.

Once again, Quasi was torn between who to save and who to leave behind. There could be no compromise, no in-between. He had to chose.

"Qua . . si . . ." Sophia gritted out from under the strain of Frollo's blade. It was clear that she could buy them only a few more seconds.

He glanced down at the unconscious gypsy who lay limply in his arms. Her features were pale and slightly gaunt. She needed to be moved elsewhere in order to survive. It was a conclusion that Quasi felt he had no choice but to come to. Esmeralda had to be the one to escape, for she had no means to protect herself nor was she in any condition to do so. Carefully shifting her into a more accessible position, Quasi lifted her from the tiny bed and, pausing for one last glance at the young redhead, bolted for the door where he disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

As he ran, Quasi felt the weak and fragile muscle that resided within his chest, shatter.

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

The moment Quasi, with Esmeralda secure in his arms, disappeared from her sight, the young redhead swung her blade in a counterclockwise arc, causing Frollo's blade to dip towards the floor and giving her the chance to fall back a few paces in order to catch her breath. It had proven more difficult than she originally thought, to hold the enraged minster back for so long. In fact, if Quasi had not finally taken Esmeralda to safety the moment in which he did, she was sure her strength would have failed her right then and there. If that had been so, then all three of them would have been no more. Her breath came and fell in great heaves and it was all Sophia could do to not collapse to the stone floor in utter exhaustion.

Her sword suddenly felt quite heavy in her small hands and it's very tip dipped towards the floor where it struck the stone beneath her feet with a resounding _clang!_ The noise alerted Frollo, who had not been expecting the defensive maneuver she had pulled and had stumbled away towards the opposite wall which he now leaned against for support.

"I have had enough of your meddling, girl." A deep growl passed harshly through gritted teeth and the minister's grip upon the hilt of his blade tightened to the point the very knuckles of his hand turned white as death. "You have become a thorn that has festered in my side for long enough."

His eyes burned with such anger and hatred that an icy, cold chill ran up the length of her spine, paralyzing her in fear. She was not a soldier, not like the ones the cruel minister commanded. Like her father had been. Like Phoebus was. Then again, Frollo himself was no warrior either. Perhaps he had enough knowledge and skill to suffice in a mild skirmish, but this was not so. In this, Sophia knew she could not afford to lose to the steel-eyed man. She had the skill and, compared to Frollo's age, she had mobility and agility on her side. It would have to do.

"Then," Sophia began slowly, straightening herself and raising her blade defensively. She narrowed her eyes at the shell of a man in front of her. She could not lose courage now. If the only good that came of this was the chance that Quasi and Esmeralda were safe, then it would be enough. She could live with such a death. As long as it was fighting for her friends. As long as she fought to protect _him._ "You must remove it."

**Oh boy! Well my friends, it's coming down to the wire now! How was it? I hope it met your expectations and so forth. I hope I'm not drawing this out too much. If I am, then next chapter will pick up a little bit. But I have a knack for detail so please bare with me on such things. I wanted to put more into this one and have it reach over 5,000 words but I figured that all of you had waited long enough so what I wanted to put into this one will be placed into the next. **

**I truly hope this was pleasing for all of you and please, leave me a nice little review for me in the box below. If you have any questions of concerns, please feel free to PM me and I will get back to you.**

**Many thanks to all of my readers, followers, and reviewers. You all are the light of this story and my prime source for inspiration. I will see you, next chapter!**


	31. A Dying light

**Hello Everyone! I'm a day early with this next chapter. Hooray for me! I hope I haven't been drawing this whole section out too much. In my opinion, in the movie, it went way too fast for me and this gave me much more room to play with. So, I've been playing with all kinds of things that could work for the fight scene. Which I'm afraid, is just getting started. Far warning, there is blood but only mentions. No real details of wounds or anything. Well, I think that's enough for the intro. I won't delay you any longer. **

**Read on my friends!**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

** A Dying Light  
**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

The young redhead would be lying if she said she was not afraid. She adjusted her grip on the hilt of the blade, for her hands were slick with perspiration. There was little hope for her and yet, Sophia found that even though she feared what was to come, she would not change it. In her own way, Sophia had found something worth protecting. Someone worth fighting for. Esmeralda, though at first a rival to her in the pursuit for Quasi's love, had become a dear and irreplaceable friend to her. Phoebus, in his own strange, unique way, now resembled the elder brother she never had. The both of them had come to mean so much to her. True friends who would always be by her side the moment she needed them. Whether she asked or not. She could never ask for better friends than that.

But, it was Quasi who drove her. Quasi who was the source of her strength, her determination, and her will. He had taught her about the joy in finding the small things in life, discovering her limited talent in carving and, which had proven to be most useful, how to navigate the rafters of the bell tower itself. He had shone her the simplicities of his life, the things most others never took the time to notice or appreciate. Things that they took for granted. And, he offered her the greatest gift possible. His friendship. His trust. And, if there had ever been a future for them, perhaps, even his love.

As Sophia stood opposite of the minister, she held herself firm and strong. She was scared and had no desire to die. But, if this was to be her end, then it would be an end she could be proud of. That her father could be proud of. Perhaps her mother, Clare and Pascal, Selena and Jacques, and many of her other friends could understand. The young redhead prayed they would, for she would hate to leave them with the idea she died for naught.

"This," Frollo's cold, steely baritone cut through Sophia's thoughts, drawing her back to the situation at hand. "Will be the last time you interfere."

And with that, he charged her. However, she was prepared for such an attack. She inhaled deeply and with a resounding cry upon her lips, met the minister's blade halfway. Their swords met with deafeningly resonance as they collided, the metal crying out in protest as each side tried to overwhelm the other. Sophia's face was so close to Frollo's that she co uld clearly see every line of age etched into the contours of his own. His steel eyes were ablaze with such a vast amount of rage and hatred, that another chilling flicker of fear passed through her.

Nonetheless, the young redhead steeled herself against his terrifying expression and quickly sideswiped the next blow that aimed itself at her head. With a startled yelp, Sophia ducked, Frollo's blade passing over her by mere inches, taking only the ends of a few wisps of dark, red curls with it. But she ignored the damage, which, for the most part,wasn't all that much, for it was of no concern to her at the present moment. She was more concerned with preventing the deranged minister from removing her head from her shoulders.

"I'm afraid Your Honor," The young redhead began rather lightheartedly, taking a step back and bending over backwards in order to avoid being skewered by the tip of Frollo's sword. The moment he withdrew the blade only to come at her from a different angle did Sophia right herself and parry his next attack. She offered him a cheeky grin as she deflected the blow. "That you are going to have to try a little harder than that."

Unfortunately, it was the wrong thing to say. For the moment the insult left her lips, Frollo cried out in anger and swung his blade so fast that it became all but a burr to her. She barely had the time to move before a deep, white hot pain erupted across her face. The edge of the sword cut sharply against the skin of her right cheek, creating a thin, diagonal line that immediately began to seep crimson. Sophia cried out in both shock and pain, stumbling away from the man in the effort to place as much distance between them, clutching at her now wounded face. She could feel the blood flowing rapidly down the side of her face, it coated her hand which was pressed against the wound in the effort to stem the flow but to no avail.

_Note to self.'_ She thought wryly to herself as she raised her eyes to the minister who had a rather satisfied expression upon his haggard face. _'Do not allow yourself to become cocky.'_

However, now that she paused to see to her face, another source of pain was brought to her attention. She glanced downward. Her previously broken left wrist pulsed angrily with every slight movement the young redhead made and now that her attention had been drawn back to it, she found it virtually impossible to ignore. A strained hiss of pain escaped her, the hilt of her blade falling from her grasp only to met the stone floor with a harsh, resounding _clang!_ She doubled over from the pain and cradled the broken appendage to her chest. She had pushed her hand to the very end of its limits and thus, could no longer hold up to the strain she had placed it under. As of now, her left hand was now of no use to Sophia. She would have to continue the fight with only one hand.

"It appears," A cold, cruel voice observed from above her head, it's tone smooth and chilling. "That you have reached the end of this duel."

Before the young redhead could snatch up her fallen weapon (or even meet the eyes of the owner of such a voice) the cool, tell-tale sign of the edge of a blade was suddenly pressed against the side of her throat. Sophia's body went ridged, her muscles frozen in fear, and the very breath in her lungs seemed to vanish. She slowly raised her head and in doing so, her sky blue eyes grew wide in fear as they met Frollo's triumphant, steel-gray ones. A wide, wicked grin immediately spread across his features as he took in the sight of her wounded form.

"I am afraid, all your efforts have been in vain my dear." The cruel minister cooed in what was meant to be a soothing tone, but to the young redhead it only spelled horror and fear. "Quasimodo will die this night, as shall the witch he harbors."

"Pray tell me girl," Frollo bent over at the waist, never once releasing the pressure he kept upon the blade, and pressed his face close to hers. "What have you to show for opposing me? You have only delayed the inevitable. They shall die, one way or another. You have not saved them."

Sophia swallowed thickly, the sword moved in time to her breathing and that fact alone was enough to send her body into hard racking sobs. She tried to contain them, but one found its way passed her lips. Frollo chuckled at her fear and pressed the blade harder against the flesh of her neck. A trickle of blood welded from the slight cut and traveled down the length of her column where it disappeared beneath the collar of her tunic. She shut her eyes tightly against the pain, against the cruel look in the minister's eyes.

"Oh yes," Frollo nodded instantly, his smile growing. "You have failed them and your life has been wasted in the vain attempt to shield that _horrid_ creature."

Sophia shook in both pain and anger. Quasi wasn't a creature! He was her friend! He meant everything to her! He was always the one she could turn to! If she had no idea what to do she always knew where to go. Quasi always found a way to make her life brighter, one way or another, he was always there. He was the one whom she had come to love! The one her heart yearned for. The one who meant _everything_ to her. There was nothing evil or sinister about him! He wasn't capable of anything of the sort!

"Shut your mouth!" She spat, her eyes snapping open, ablaze with a rage of her own. She glowered at the shell of a man in front of her, heedless of the sword pressed against her throat. "You know nothing of him!"

Frollo's eyes narrowed at her daring and slowly pulled away, wiping the spittle that had flown from her mouth from his face. "It matters not."

He readjusted his hold on the blade and carefully drew it away from her. Sophia's vision blurred and it was with cold terror that she realized that the pain from her injuries and the amount of blood that she had lost was beginning to take its toll on her senses. Frollo's image was to distorted for her to discern what course of action to take. Her hearing had become muffled, her sight useless. All she knew was the pain she felt at this moment and the pain that was to come. Her blade still lay off to her right where it had fallen moments before. She was too weak to reach it.

There was no escape.

_'I'm sorry Quasi. I-I tried. P-please, forgive me.'_

"Now," Frollo's voice seemed so far away. Everything was fading. "The time as come for you to face God's wrath. May he spare you of your sins."

Why? Why couldn't she have done more? She _should_ have done more! In the end, she hadn't done anything! All she wanted was for Quasi to be happy. To be loved. Loved. She never told him the true extent of her feelings for him. That she did _love_ him! She never had the chance, the courage. Perhaps, it was because she was a coward after all. She should have told him! She should have-

There was a flash of silver and then a cloud of white pain erupted behind her eyes, blinding her. She screamed. Then, darkness claimed her.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

Run.

Run.

_Run!_

It was all he could think of. He had to get Esmeralda to safety. He could not protect Sophia, but he could honor her by doing what she asked of him. But it hurt so! It had taken every once of his strength and will to take his gypsy friend and flee without the young redhead. And now, as a result, Quasi's heart was waring in such utter turmoil, he felt as though his very soul was being rent in two! He practically abandoned her! He could only imagine the horrors that his former master was doing to her now. Who knew what she was being left to endure on his account?! Why did he not try and stop her? Why did he not finish Frollo while he had the chance? If he had, this would not be happening! He would not be running for his life and the life of Esmeralda. He would not have left Sophia's side for an instant. He would be there now, beside her. Protecting her!

But Quasi knew the reason why he had not taken the minister's life. _She_ had begged him not to. Sophia had clung to him like a small child and _pleaded_ with him to spare the cruel man. He had never been one to deny her anything, not when it was in his ability to give. And, to his own amazement, she was not one to ask for what he _could not_ give. She asked so little of him except, to be himself. She wanted to know more about him. About what he wanted, what he loved, about the things that interested him, and about his dreams. All she had asked of him was to share with her all there was to know and she did so in general interest and curiosity.

Sophia had asked him to spare Frollo's life and that's exactly what he had done. But now, at what cost? What was the price of letting such a cruel, deceitful, and blatantly evil man, live? Quasi feared that it now fell to the young redhead to see the extent of that price. As he ran with Esmeralda held firmly in his grasp, he wished for the first time in ten years that God had never breathed life into his crippled and deformed body. If he had never been born, Esmeralda would not be lying limp in his arms. If he had never been born, Sophia would not be risking her life in the effort to see to his safety. If he had never seen the grace of light, Frollo would not be trying to destroy all who he held dear to his sad, lonely heart.

All Quasi had managed to do in his short twenty years was destroy the lives of those around him, those who had become his only friends. He had caused this to happen. He was responsible for his friends suffering and torment. No matter how hard he tried to protect them, he failed. Every time he failed. Sophia was now most likely slain because of him.

_'No!'_

Quasi shook his head wildly. How could he think such a horrible thing?! How could he lose faith in Sophia's abilities?! She was magnificent with a blade, though true, she had not picked one up in nearly two years but that mattered little to him. She was perfectly capable of defending herself, the instinct of defense was still there, buried deep within her mind and her heart. She would be fine, he knew it. He believed in her. Sophia would not be so easily defeated, not when she had something to protect.

Quasi suddenly halted his steps. He had been so consumed with his own thoughts that he had not paid any heed to where he was going and now found himself by the left-hand corner on the south side of the southern bell tower. Before he could discern which way would offer him the best way of escape (to turn right and make his way around back to the bridge or to double back the way they had come), he immediately became aware of a set of fast approaching footfalls. Unable to tell if they belonged to friend or foe, Quasi took the liberty of assuming the worst. He looked down both ends of the walkway, trying to find a way to go in order to avoid being discovered. However, he quickly found there was no such route that would completely cover them.

There was only one other option left and it was not one Esmeralda was going to like in the least.

Sparing the gypsy a quick glance, Quasi found that she was now stirring from her lapse of consciousness. Tightening his grip upon her thin shoulders, he quickly offered her a warning for his next actions. "I'm sorry Esmeralda, but you must hold on to me. Whatever you do, do _not_ look down and do _not_ let go."

And with that, Quasi shifted most of her weight to his right side, threw out his left arm, and launched them both over the side of the balcony. In mid free-fall, he caught the neck of one of the gargoyles which extended out from beneath the ledge and hung there suspended above the flaming square. Esmeralda did not even have the chance to scream before they were, more or less, safely secure from falling to the street below. By now she was fully conscious, though thoroughly confused by their present situation.

"Quasi," She gasped, tightening her grip around his neck nearly choking him. Though, he could tell she was shaking terribly and trying very hard not to panic. "What on this good earth are you _doing?!_"

"Shh." He hushed her gently, yet not unkindly, before nodding to the balcony above their heads. "Someone is coming. I do not know who, but we must be silent."

Nodding silently in agreement, Esmeralda readjusted her hold upon his neck, trying not to strangle him in the process, in the effort to make certain she would not fall. For several moments, the footsteps seemed to fade away and complete silence fell over the two figures. This was of course, with the exception of the chaos that was ensuing far below them on the ground. Waiting a few moments more to make sure they were indeed safe, Quasi steadily released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and allowed the muscles in his stout frame to relax slightly. It quickly became a choice he would immediately regret.

"Leaving so soon, dear boy?"

Without any warning, Claude Frollo appeared over the edge of the balcony, his sword wet with a substance that Quasi immediately recognized in growing horror. He did not have to question just whose life force it belonged to, for it was perfectly made clear by her absence. Sophia was-. He couldn't even force himself to finish the terrible thought. It wasn't true. It couldn't be! But as he continued to gaze up at the crimson smeared blade, he knew it to be true. Sophia was no longer apart of his world. She was gone. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling wormed its way through his stomach and up his throat, practically strangling him. This could not be happening! Sophia could not be-!

Unfortunately, Frollo gave him no time to mourn. Suddenly the blood-stained weapon pulled back and came rushing down upon their heads. Quasi barely had the time to call out a warning before swinging themselves out of the blade's deadly path.

"Hang on!"

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

Where was she? Everything was dark, so very dark. She couldn't see. She couldn't hear. She couldn't _move_. There was nothing. And yet, _something_. Something she couldn't identify yet knew was there. A beat of some sort. A throbbing, echoing through her though she did not know how she could body felt heavy, too heavy. As if someone had placed large bags of flour upon her shoulders. Her body felt heavy, too heavy. As if someone had placed large bags of flour upon her shoulders. Its very weight sought to crush her! To fully engulf her till she caved underneath its massive bulk. And she was tired. Oh, so very tired! Sophia wanted love nothing more than for the weight to be gone so she could rest, to sleep. Sleep. Sleep?!

Immediately panic began to take hold and the young redhead struggled against the weight and the exhaustion. She couldn't sleep! Frollo was still out there! And Quasi and Esmeralda! Images of her friends, smiling and happy, appeared in her mind's eye. She couldn't sleep! She had to fight! She had to reach the others! Frollo was going to slaughter them! Sophia had failed them once, she wasn't about to fail them again! Not again! Not when she still had the strength left, no matter how little there was.

She shook herself, forced herself to open her eyes (after all, why else was she trapped in darkness). She urged her body to move. Sought for some feeling left in her tired frame. She couldn't stay here! If she stayed then she would most certainly slip permanently into the darkness and then her friends would be lost. She had to wake up! She could not, no _would not_, die! Not here! Not now!

With great difficulty, Sophia managed to force her way through the darkness and fight her way past the heaviness that filled her limbs. Her eyes fluttered twice, then fully opened. Unfortunately, her vision was so blurry and distorted. She could barely identify the room she was in, along with the few pieces of scattered furniture. By the amount of cold she felt upon her back she knew she was leaning against a stone wall. She also became aware of the fact that she was seated upon the floor, though rather slumped at the present moment. Now that she had reclaimed some level of consciousness, Sophia could tell that her senses were coming back to her and in some cases, not for the better.

Her body felt as if it was being branded by hundreds of irons. Hot pain licked its way up the right side of her frame and seemed to meld into a headache so great, it could cleave stone in two. Her muscles were stiff and screamed in protest as she tried to lift herself off the floor. She buckled under the weight of the pain and fell to her knees, the palms of her hands cutting into the stone on impact. This was not good, not good at all.

_'Curses! I cannot just lay here like this! I have to move! Move body! MOVE!'_

Again she willed herself upright, reaching out a hand in search for the wall out of the need for stability. If she was going to help Quasi, she needed to get her bearings back. Unfortunately, the hand she extended to grip the wall was her left and her wrist screamed out a reminder that it was no longer of any use. Sophia gritted her teeth hard against the pain, summoning every once of strength she possessed not to cry. Pushing herself past the intense throbbing that pulsated through her wrist, she slowly regained her sense of balance and stood up. The young redhead let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a moment to give her body time to adjust to the feeling of being upright.

Her legs shook slightly from her weight but Sophia did not fall again. With tentative motions, her lifted her right foot and took a tiny step forward. The action did not leave her breathless or dizzy, so she concluded that it was safe to proceed forward as long as she did not move too fast or stride to far. Slowly the young redhead made her way to the open doorway, but with every movement pain flared from her right side. Knowing that if she didn't look at what was causing the agony, Sophia was going to have trouble going any farther. Abet reluctantly, she spared a quick glance down at where the pain was originating.

What she saw sent shivers of fear and revulsion through her like wildfire. Her already red tunic was near drenched in a deep, darker substance that turned the surrounding fabric almost black. She could not see the wound (though she could tell that Frollo had stabbed her between her third and forth rib) because the fabric had not been ripped completely asunder, rather it was only a slit in the tunic that was roughly two or three inches long. If she wanted to see the exact condition of the wound she would have to touch it and that was something at this point Sophia wasn't sure she could do. She had never been squeamish of the sight of blood but, in this case, she felt bile raising fast in her throat and her stomach churned rather unpleasantly. If she could not look at the wound there was only one other option she had left.

She couldn't continue without somehow securing the injury and, if she could not bare to see it, then she would have to bind the tunic itself to it in order to stop the bleeding. Sophia inhaled a slow, yet deep breath and released. She had to do this or else she would bleed out, this much she knew. Taking the hem of her father's tunic, she started ripping the fabric in thick, long strips. They had to be thick or else they wouldn't cover the width of the wound and thus she would lose more blood. Carefully, she tied the strips together and began to wrap them around what remained of her tunic that covered the wound. Once the wound was bound and at no risk to exposure, Sophia took another deep breath.

She had lingered long enough. The young redhead exhaled rather roughly and tested her legs. Strength had returned to them and her body did not feel as heavy as it did when she first awoke. A good sign. Without any further hesitation, Sophia set off as fast as she was able down the walkway in the direction of south. She had no idea what was propelling her to go this way, but she decided not to question it. Instinct and pure will was the only things driving her at this point. But in her haste to find Quasi and Esmeralda, Sophia failed to realize she had left something behind.

There, glimmering like a star in the dying firelight, in the exact position in which it fell, was her blade.

**Okay, someone of you may be disappointed in how Sophia fights but let me clear some things up. First of all, Sophia really doesn't like actual battle. She's like Quasi, not really the badass, go get 'em type of person. Second, even though she can defend herself_ decently_, she hasn't picked up a sword in two years. She's a bit rusty here. Third, she's still female and her short height (remember, she's about as tall as Quasi is) doesn't help matters much. She's fallible.**

**I hope this doesn't put people completely off the story, but if I have offended anyone here well . . . sorry but it's my story. I make sure my characters aren't Mary-Sues and try to give them realistic qualities. Anyway, the epic showdown is set for next chapter! Which I must say, I've been itching to writing that piece ever since I started this story! So WOO! I estimate another three or so chapters before we conclude this story (note: I said that like three chapters ago but, whatever).**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and if you would all be a dear and leave me a nice, long review in the box below I'd most appreciate it. Many thanks to everyone who's been with me from the get-go and to all those just now starting! You all are beautiful! See you in the next chapter!**


	32. A Light Goes Out

**Welcome back my friends, to another chapter of The Light Within Us. This time it's a shorter chapter but since I've been gone for a while I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Plus, my muse has returned to me! Hooray! I hope this chapter is satisfactory and pleasing as far as suspense is concerned, I really hope you all like this one in particular because this has been one of the chapters I've been dying to write ever since I started this story. It's exactly how I envisioned the highlight of the fight.**

**Well, I'll stop talking about it and let you find out for yourselves. READ ON MY PRETTIES!**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**A Light Goes Out**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He managed to swing themselves out of harms way just as Frollo's blade struck the stonework that was carved into the face of Notre Dame. He had no choice but to forgo his hold on Esmeralda so that he could use both hands to maneuver them out of the path of the vengeful weapon. Without his aid, the young gypsy hung suspended across his front; her hold about his neck was the only thing keeping her from falling to her death. He moved quickly and surely, dodging and side-swinging the sword every time it was aimed for them. And it was now that Quasi sent a silent blessing to the Lord above for his massive strength-filled limbs. For without them, they would surely fall.

From gargoyle to gargoyle he swung, trying desperately to avoid his former master's blade and straining to prevent Esmeralda's thin frame from hitting the stonework at the same time. It was difficult and every time the sword struck stone, the gypsy cried out in fear. For the sound was like a harbinger of what was to happen if he moved too slow. He focused every once of his attention on avoiding the weapon, trusting Esmeralda to relax her body and not panic. If she panicked or made herself ridged, she would injure herself and him. Then, either his grip would fail and they would fall to the square below or, he would become distracted and Frollo's blade would strike true. Quasi could afford neither. He needed to remain entirely conscious of his movements and the movements of the man above his head.

As he gripped the side of the balcony, Quasi could see another long necked gargoyle just barely out of his right eye. Without any hesitation he lunged for it, catching it with both hands. He could hear Frollo's footsteps above him and with great haste, pulled both him and Esmeralda fully onto the stone creature, then as soon as he had a good foothold, leaped across the open air just as the minister's sword struck the creature's stone neck. Quasi caught the balcony's edge with both hands and hurriedly started to pull them upright. He stopped long enough to make certain that Esmeralda safely made it to the other side without trouble, however Frollo's blade suddenly came into sight. It swung in a downward arch and would have struck the young woman dead center if it were not for Quasi's quick intervention.

He shot a large hand out so fast and so hard that it sent her sprawling to the floor of the walkway, yet preventing the sword from finding its intended target. He had already lost one person he cared about this night, he was _not_ going to lose another. He managed, with the aid of a nearby gargoyle, to heave himself up onto the balcony's edge, but as he did so, Frollo was there before him, grinning like a wild cat who had cornered an unsuspecting young deer. Quasi gripped the gargoyle so hard that his knuckles turned bone white and a fear so great began to override his reasoning. All he could think of was how to get away, yet his body was frozen in time and did not respond to his mind's urgings.

"I should have known you would have tried to save the gypsy witch," The enraged minister spat, sparring Esmeralda a foul grimace before setting his steel gaze back towards him. Quasi felt his mouth go bone dry, his fear level rising with every word the cruel man spoke. "Like mother, like son I suppose. She died trying to save you as well."

Almost immediately Quasi's fear and terror vanished, confusion and bewilderment replacing them all together.

"W-what?" He breathed, his pale blue orbs widening. He almost stumbled from his perch atop the ledge!

He did not understand! What had his mother to do with this?! She had abandoned him! Left him on the steps of the cathedral to die as a young babe! What did Frollo mean she died trying to save him?! Save him from what? From who? Why now of all times did his former master choose to mention this?! What role did his mother have to play in this?! Did this mean that she had not left him for dead? That he was not abandoned?!

Quasi had not the time to further question Frollo's statement, for the cruel minister began to speak once more.

"Now," Resumed Frollo, his eyes bright with an emotion that sent another wave of pure terror through Quasi's heart. The man spread his arms wide, bowing slightly in front of him and a harsh tone at his lips. "I'm going to do, what I should have done . . . twenty years _AGO!_"

With a wild cry, Frollo raised his blade above Quasi's head and swung it rapidly for the base of his neck. The young hunchback was so frozen in fear that he could not move, his legs would not respond! His mind screamed at him to do _something_, anything to avoid the weapon, yet he found himself as solid as stone. He could do nothing. He was going to die.

_"NO!"_

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She was just about to round the corner when she heard it. The all too familiar ring of a sword. She paused in her steps, straining to hear what exactly was happening. A second later, muffled shouting reached her ears and the sound of metal crashing against stone. Sophia felt whatever blood remained in her battered body stop cold, freezing solid like ice in her veins. She recognized the voices, however faint and distant they were. Quasi, Esmeralda, and most horribly, Frollo. Immediately panic set in and the young redhead threw all caution to the wind, no longer caring about the severity of her injuries. She bolted forwards, running as fast as her legs could carry, nay, even faster it seemed. She no longer could feel the pain in her side and her wrist no longer seemed to register in her mind.

There was nothing but one thought flitting through her mind. Quasi.

Sophia skidded around the corner, almost tripping over her own feet in the process, but trudged on. She had to make it. She had to stop Frollo. She couldn't let the man kill her friends. Kill Quasi. If she was too late-. The young redhead tossed her head and shook it roughly as she ran. She couldn't allow her mind to go there. Tears began to fill her eyes, reducing her vision to blurred shapes and colors. She didn't want to think about what she would find if she didn't make it. She wouldn't be able to function properly if she allowed her imagination to run rapid. She had to remain focused.

_'Keep it together, Sophia!' _She admonished harshly to herself and forcing her body to go faster. _'Don't do this now! Do not panic! There's still a chance they're alive! Don't lose faith now!'_

She barely covered the next turn when she came upon a scene that about near stopped her heart for good. Roughly thirty or so feet from where she stood, the young redhead watched in growing horror as Frollo swung his blade over and over again at something unseen on the other side of the balcony. Whatever the deranged minister was aiming at it was on the move, for Frollo followed it, his sword lashing out in the hopes of meeting his mark. Sophia couldn't be sure, but she had a good hunch on who the intended targets were. Just as she moved to distract the man from his deadly task, two large, strong hands appeared on a section of balcony that was now approximately some fifteen feet from he current position.

Immediately recognizing the pair as Quasi's, the young redhead couldn't help but inhale sharply as he struggled to haul his body upward. Suddenly, a thin shape of black and white came into view. There, wrapped about the young hunchback's neck and clinging for dear life, was La Esmeralda. She was facing Quasi at the moment but, as if somehow knowing someone was staring at her, turned her head at the last minute. A pair of deep, emerald orbs met Sophia's own sky blue and for a brief moment in time, a silent connection between them was made. An understanding of some sort. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone and something caught Esmeralda's attention, causing the gypsy woman to look off to her left.

Sophia followed her example just in time to see Claude Frollo strike out for Esmeralda's head. She prepared herself to spring forward and prevent the blade from making contact with the woman when Quasi's hand suddenly shot out and shoved her out of the path of the sword. Esmeralda's thin frame connected hard with the stone walkway, causing her to yelp out of both surprise and pain, but from Sophia's current position saw that she was not severely hurt, though she may be sporting a few bruises later on. The young redhead saw the gypsy shake her head in order to regain her senses and once she was satisfied that Esmeralda was in no danger, addressed her attention back to the two men on the balcony.

Quasi was now standing, rather precariously, atop a stone gargoyle that sat upon the balcony. His face clearly spoke of fear and apprehension, not at all comfortable with his current position or the fact that Frollo was now grinning at him like some wild beast. Sophia felt her heart constrict with nervousness and fright. Somewhere her mind was telling her to get Esmeralda out of the way before the minister had the chance to go after her again, but found that she didn't have a chance of doing so. Frollo would certainly spot her if she tried. And, for the moment, it was best to let him believe she was still no longer alive. She would have the advantage of surprise on her hands if she remained where she was for the time being.

"I should have known you would have tried to save the gypsy witch," Frollo spat angrily at Quasi, though Sophia saw his sharp gaze drifted to Esmeralda just for a moment. "Like mother, like son I suppose. She died trying to save you as well."

The young redhead froze. Quasi's true story came flitting back through her memories, the Archdeacon's voice capturing the horror of his past. He had not been abandoned, instead, he was orphaned and Frollo had taken him in in the attempt to save his own soul. Now, it seemed the minister's care for his own well-being an soul was no longer of any concern to him. He was going to slay Quasi anyway. Sophia gripped the edge of the corner in both hands, her knuckles turning bone white.

"W-what?" Quasi breathed, taking a small step away from the man, a look of pure bewilderment and confusion etched in the features of his face. His eyes becoming wide with both surprise and horror.

Sophia felt her heart reach out for him. To see him in such shock and confusion over his mother pained her. Quasi did not need to learn the truth like this. If they somehow survived all this, she vowed that she would be the one to tell him. She would not let Frollo's harsh and hurtful words be the only explanation Quasi ever received. He deserved the truth, the whole truth. As painful as it was, Sophia understood his need to understand how he came to be here, tied to this cruel man and pain filled life.

"Now," Frollo continued, his eyes lightening up with a dark determination that could only spell one thing. Death. He spread his arms wide, bowing slightly to Quasi before resuming his threat. "I'm going to do, what I should have done . . . twenty years _AGO!_"

With a wild cry, Frollo raised the sword high above Quasi's head and swung for the base of his column. Quasi, who was still frozen, did not move or try to avoid the weapon. He appeared to be paralyzed with fear!

Sophia's heart caught in her throat, an immense wave of terror throwing her body into action before she was even aware of it's movements. She bolted for the minister, running as through the very devil was at her heels, though in this case, the devil was before her. It mattered not. Quasi's life hung in the balance, if she stood by and did nothing he would die! She had already lost her father, the strongest man she had ever known. She had lost one man in her life, she was not about to lose another! Especially the one who made her feel the way she did. She loved Quasi more than any boy or man in all of Paris! No one could compare to him! No one could ever take his place! He would not die, she would make sure of that!

_"NO!" _Sophia screamed, pouring every once of strength into the word. All her fear, her pain, and most of all . . . her love.

She launched herself up and over the balcony, blindsiding Frollo and slamming into him with such force that the sword flew from his grasp and toppled over the side. He struggled to remain his momentum, but the amount of force she had hit him with made it impossible. The minister lost all ability to right himself and slipped from his perch, pinwheeling over the edge. However, in a final moment of desperation, Frollo reached out and grasped the only thing that might save him from the blaze below.

Sophia.

The cruel man snatched out a hand and latched onto the hem of her tunic, sending both the minister and the young redhead clear over the side and into the fires below.

**Yes, I know, very short chapter. Originally this half was supposed to be included with Chapter 31, but it didn't quite end up that way. So I made this sequence a chapter by itself. I personally think it's better this way. A nice piece all on its own.**

**Now, I'm not saying a word about whether anyone is dead or not. Except Frollo. I'll just go ahead and say, 'Yah, he's dead.' Sophia on the other hand . . . well . . . Let's just say things are looking quite bleak for our little heroine for the time being. But I don't want to ruin the next chapter so you'll just have to wait and see. **

**Please, give me feedback. It would really help me at this time to get a lot of reviews on this particular chapter so I can set up the next one even faster. If you would leave me a nice long review in the box below I would so greatly appreciate it! As always my dear readers, it is you who has inspired this story of mine and who have been my prime motivation for its progress. Without you, this piece would not exist. So give yourselves a good pat on the back and review!**

**I'll have the next chapter posted as soon as possible. But you can help it along for any little tid bits you may want included. I'll muse them over and see if it fits. Thank you again and please, have a wonderful day! **


	33. The Light Within Us

**Before we get started on the highlight of this story, I have some honorable mentions that need, well, mentioning.**

**First on the list is The Imaginative Light, who deserves the honorable place of holding my 99th Review! Thank so much Ms. Light! Take a bow!**

**With that being said my 100th reviewer spot goes to a person who only left me the name Guest. Now, because there are many "Guests" on this site I'm posting their following review so the individual will be as properly recognized as I am able to do so.**

**Their review is as follows, "I think Frollo should be flabbergasted that Sophia is still alive, and she has another epic final battle with Frollo."**

**Thank you so much for your suggestion, I really enjoy seeing what other people come up with. This allows me to consider different ideas that I may or may not have been able to come up with on my own. And even if your suggestion is not used in the story, I still value your input. You give options that I may not have had if you hadn't spoken. So thank you oh so much Guest and everyone else who reviews this story.**

**Now, I think I've done enough talking for the moment. I'm sure you all are eager to see what will become of Sophia. Read on, if you please. But, be prepared to go through at least three boxes of tissues. I suggest getting them now before something else distracts you.  
**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**The Light Within Us**

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

It happened so fast, he didn't have time to act until the very last moment. As Frollo managed to grab a hold of the young redhead, Quasi lurched forward and tried to seize her hand before she fell completely over the side. He was a second too late. Just as the tips of his fingers brushed hers, gravity came into effect and pulled Sophia out of his reach.

"NOooo!"

"Quasi!"

He watched in horror as her small form, along with the minister, descended to the flamed covered street below. At first, his mind couldn't quite grasp what had just happened. One moment he believed Sophia to be slain and the next, she had come out of nowhere! The young redhead had thrown herself into the minister with all the force she possessed and sent him careening over the railing. The full impact of the event hit the hunchback so hard, he stumbled backwards and fell onto the safety on the walkway were he landed completely immersed in shadow.

Sophia had just saved Quasi's life.

Off to his right, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something black and white move, but he was too stunned to even think of reacting to it. In fact, he couldn't think at all! His mind wasn't responding properly. Quasi knew he should do something, anything, but he couldn't get his legs to work. It was as if someone had removed every bone in his body and left him lying there on the cold, stone ground. The world seemed to be spinning rapidly and yet, very slowly at the same time. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but at first he wasn't sure if it was his name at all. What was his name? Who was he? He no longer knew.

All he knew, all he could see, was her falling away from his hand. Tumbling down, down, down, down into the fire below. She was gone, and this time . . . this time it was his fault. He had failed in his promise. He had promised her he would always be there to catch her if she fell. And yet, he hadn't reached her in time. He couldn't catch her. She had looked up at him with such wide eyes full of fear and terror, eyes praying for him to save her, and he had let her fall! He . . he killed her. Quasi had slain the one thing he cared about above all else, the one person who had given him hope and joy. She had given him some much of her time and commitment, given him her laughter and her smiles, had given him everything he could ever want for in a friend. And she was dead because of him. Sophia, who had given him everything, gave him the one thing he would have never had asked for.

Her life.

He didn't want it! He didn't want her life! Take it back! Take it back! Oh good Lord in heaven, give it back to her! He never wanted this, never asked for it! For one, brief moment, when he saw her standing in the shadows, he had been so happy. So full of joy to see her alive! And then . . and then this! No! No, no, no, no, no, no! He should have been the one to fall! It should have been him! Why couldn't it have been him?!

"Quasimodo, snap out of it!" Suddenly Esmeralda's pale, tanned face was before him, kneeling in front of him with her hands on his cheeks, shaking him. She looked about as frightened and confused as he felt., yet her voice was strong and urgent. "Come, we must to go."

"G-go?" He whispered, his brain could not put a full sentence together. He was still in shock. "W-whe-"

"To Sophia," Said Esmeralda quietly, standing up and pulling him with her. "You will see her, won't you?"

Quasi blinked. He didn't understand. Sophia was-

Esmeralda must have put together his confused expression and feelings because she continued, abet rushed. "Phoebus managed to catch her Quasi. He was standing on a balcony several floors below us when she fell. I saw him catch her. She is safe, for now."

That was all it took. The hunchback lurched to his feet and ran, not bothering to wait for the gypsy woman who followed after. Sophia was safe! She was here! She hadn't fallen into the fires below! It was those thoughts that drove him forward. He knew exactly which balcony Esmeralda was talking about, he knew where she was. But, with the news that Phoebus had been the one to save her, Quasi felt bile rise in his throat. It seemed to him that the former soldier made up for every mistake he had ever made. Wherever Quasi fell short, the golden-haired man was always there to pick up the slack. Phoebus was everything Quasi was not and perhaps . . perhaps he had been chasing nothing more than a dream.

_**Third Person**_

_**Phoebus' POV**_

He had had a bad feeling the moment he left Sophia standing on that staircase. As a result, he had hurried after her once he had the Archdeacon safely, and comfortably, situated in a small room off the sanctuary. A sinking feeling had developed in the pit of his stomach, urging him to find the young redhead and help her in any way he could. He knew letting her pursue the deranged minister alone was a horrible and insane idea. It was complete suicide! Surely she was aware of this?! Her chances were slim to none? And yet, she had gone anyway. Her loyalty and deep concern for Quasimodo was the only thing on this good earth that could cause the young redhead to act so rashly and unthinkingly.

Phoebus cursed wildly under his breath as he ran down a hallway and through an open doorway. The corridor he had found himself in was the pillared section of Notre Dame that was opened to the elements (he could feel the intensity of the flames below even from this height!). There, he was met with one of the strangest and yet awe-inspiring scenes in his entire years as a soldier. Near the center of the corridor, he could see the remains of what had to have been, at one point, four of these giant stone structures. They appeared to have been crushed somehow, but by of what means Phoebus did not know. That is, until he saw what lay next to their crushed remains. Several, thick coils of chains lay scattered and broken about the corridor. Thoroughly intrigued by the scene, Phoebus approached the destruction with new found curiosity.

He knelt to one knee and picked up a section of one of the broken coils. As he looked closer, he discovered that its end had been twisted with such violence that several of the still connecting links looked ready to give way under the slightest pressure. The metal was of iron, very strong and sturdy, nay impossible to break unless you placed it under extreme force. And these chains most certainly had been. The question was, who had broken them? It was clear by their ends that they had not been broken by any tool, for it would have left a relatively clean break. No, someone had physically wrenched these links apart. There was only one person Phoebus knew of that could be strong enough to achieve such a feat.

"Quasi." He breathed in awe, looking down at the ruined chain in his hands. He knew the boy was strong, but this? This was . . . Phoebus shook his head in shock. There were no words available to him to describe this bout of strength. It made him feel quite grateful that Quasi had not hit him harder that night of the festival. If he had, the former soldier was convinced that the boy would have knocked his head clean off!

"Note to self," The golden-haired man mused aloud. "Never, under any circumstances, rile that boy's anger unnecessarily. It just may be the last thing you ever do, Phoebus."

A far off cry of anguish caused the former soldier to drop the chain and jump to his feet, his head turning every which way to find the source of the scream. He bolted to the balcony's edge and looked skyward, for that was where he discerned the cry had come from. Phoebus' eyes opened wide in horror as he saw two figures rapidly falling through the open air towards the ground below. The identity of one of them turned the very blood in his veins cold as ice. The other he recognized immediately and felt no sorrow or remorse for. The first figure, however, was too small and too slight to be a man, though it was the color of the individual's tunic that caught his eye. The flaming red fabric clashed violently with the owner's hair.

It was Sophia.

Unsheathing his sword from the rope belt at his waist, Phoebus tossed the weapon away where it collided loudly with the stone floor. The blade did not have a proper sheath and if he was to be successful in what he was about to attempt, he didn't need the weapon getting in his way or injuring someone. He leaned his upper body forward in preparation and when her body neared, reached out and plucked the young woman from the air, bridal-style. Unfortunately, Sophia had not been the only person Phoebus managed to save.

Frollo had managed to retain his grasp upon the hem of the young redhead's tunic and now dangled rather unsteadily above the fire below. Phoebus cursed violently in his mind. He had two choices, either pull Sophia up into the safety of the corridor with Frollo with her or drop them both to the street below. Either way, both would live or both would die. However, Phoebus was not about to let Sophia perish. She had come to mean as dear to him as a sister would and he was not going to sacrifice the one in order to destroy the other.

With great effort, the former soldier hauled both woman and minister over the balcony and into the safety of the corridor. The moment Frollo hit the stone floor, he released his hold on the young woman's tunic and stumbled rather shakily to his feet. Phoebus immediately set Sophia, who had long since lost consciousness, off to the side where she would be safe and dove for his sword not far off to his left.

He would defend her with his life if need be. If not only for the fact she was a sister and his betrothed, then he would protect her for Quasimodo's sake. Phoebus had seen the amount of love and care the hunchback held for the girl and knew deep in his heart, that the two of them deserved a future together. A future Phoebus would gladly defend and give his life for. Their love for each other was real love. True love. Not like any of those silly stories mothers read to their children at night or some far off fairytale that could never happen. No, this, _this_ is what it meant to truly love someone. To put everything on the line for them. To do anything and everything possible to keep them safe. To give your life for them. That is what real love is and Sophia had just proven it.

"It's over Frollo." Phoebus growled, holding the weapon defensively in front of him while placing himself between the young redhead's limp, unmoving form. "You don't have anything left. You have lost."

The minister looked about for any means of escape, for he no longer held a weapon to defend himself, and finding that the passageway behind him was unblocked, bolted for the exist. Just as it seemed that the cruel judge had a prayer, two figures covered in shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway. Phoebus, who had been about to give chase, halted in his steps and raised his blade accordingly to meet these new foes. However, his actions proved unnecessary when they stepped into the light. He heaved a great sigh of relief.

It was Quasimodo and Esmeralda.

Phoebus smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a wry smile. "You're surrounded, Frollo. You have nowhere to run."

**_Third Person_**

**_Quasi's POV_**

He felt his eyes narrow in utter disgust and hatred at the cruel man who, now looked upon Quasi with such terror that his eyes threatened to escape their lids. A deep, yet low growl left his throat as he stalked towards Frollo who immediately shrank away from his now intimidating form. He reached out a large hand and grasped the man by the front of his robe, pulling him down to his level and thrusting his deformed face to the minister's wrinkled one.

"Where. Is. _She_." It was not a question and it was not to be denied. Quasi was no longer going to tolerate Frollo's tricks or round-about answers. He wanted Sophia and this shell of a man was going to led him to her or so help him-

"Quasi."

He looked up sharply, about ready to warn whoever had spoken that he would not be kind to anyone would detoured him from finding the young redhead when he discovered it was Phoebus who had spoken.

"What?" He barked angrily, his tone dark and his pale blue eyes alight with rage. He was not in a patient mood so the golden-haired man had better speak quickly.

The former Captain of the King's Archers sheathed his blade to his side and knelt down behind a rather large piece of broken pillar. He gathered something into his arms and when he stood, there in his hold lay Sophia, who still had not regained consciousness. Quasi's eyes widened and, without a further care, immediately threw the minister away from him, not even bothering to spare him a second glance as his thin frame collided solidly against the stone floor. He couldn't care less about Frollo than at this very moment. Not when his entire world lay motionless in the arms of the ex-soldier's. He quickly drew near to them and when he was close enough, reached out to take the young redhead from the golden-haired man.

"Careful, Quasi." Phoebus warned gently as the hunchback lifted Sophia's limp form from him. "Be sure to support her head."

Quasi sharply met the ex-soldier's eyes and offered him a harsh glare. "I would _never _harm her."

Phoebus' face hardened under the hunchback's gaze but he did not flinch. "I know that Quasi, but all the same, we don't know how badly she's wounded. It could be worse than it looks."

Quasi offered him a stiff nod in silent agreement and careful readjusted his arms so as to further support Sophia's head. It was only when he had a firm hold on her did Phoebus remove his own arms as a source of support. The ex-soldier moved out of his sight and took both Esmeralda and Frollo from the corridor and down another. When they were gone he redirected his attention back to the young woman in his hold.

Quasi couldn't help but notice how doll-like she felt in his arms. To loose and relaxed. But it was the slight chill that clung to her much too pale skin that frightened him more than anything. She was growing cold! He allowed himself to fall gently against a pillar and, using it as a brace, gently lowered himself to the floor. Once he was settled, he balanced Sophia's lower body across his thighs, thus allowing the free usage of his left hand which no longer had to support her knees. Lifting his free hand, he gently tried to rub warmth back into one of her arms.

She looked like death. Her skin was too pale, absent of any color and causing her brown freckles to stand out harshly against her skin. Luckily, or unluckily, however one looked at it, Sophia's right side of her body was facing away from him, which meant the wound to her side was not being pressed against him. Of course, this meant her severely broken left wrist now rested between them and it wasn't until Quasi tried to move it that he noticed the injury. The first he felt was the extreme heat that emanated from the appendage and when he carefully lifted it so it could be placed over her, he noticed that the break was in at least two different places.

A chocked sob worked his way up his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. Sophia should never had been brought into this. If he was meant to die then so be it, but why did she interfere? Why didn't she just run away from the beginning? She would be safe right now. Safe and unharmed, not lying here in his arms cold as death and -

Another sob bubbled passed his lips and a stray tear slid down his cheek. He gently raised a hand and smoothed down her wild curls. They were soft and light, like her. So much like her. Her spirit was gentle and her very presence was like the sun itself, without it . . . without her, his life was nothing more than a cold, dark shadow. Without her, everything was bleak and colorless. Without her, Quasi didn't know how to live! How could he go on without seeing her smile or hearing her laugh? How could he continue on without ever seeing her joke or dance or try so hard to create something out of a block of wood like he could. How could he move on when he would never see her jump around in excitement over so small, yet brilliant detail in her life or hear the way she would word her sentences or even seeing her saddened by some tragic event that occurred recently? How could anyone expect him to live without her?!

The dam broke and suddenly he was crying freely, hard racking sobs shook his stout frame yet he no longer cared. He buried his right hand deeper into her hair and began to rock her cold frame back and forth. It hurt. It physically hurt! It was worse than anything Frollo had ever done to him before! She was so still! He felt no movement at all! Not even the gentle inhale or exhale of her breathing. She was gone! Quasi sobbed harder, a panic began to bubble within him and he felt as if the last remain strands of his sanity were slowly unwinding. He felt as if someone had plunged their hand into his chest and ripped out his heart! He had lost everything now! Everything that mattered was gone the moment Sophia left his life!

"I-I'm . . so . . s-sorry!" Quasi didn't know how he was able to form words. With the amount of pain he was in at this moment it shouldn't be possible. And yet, and yet he knew he had to say something to her. Even, even if she could no longer hear him or respond. He needed to tell her! "I-I'm s-so . . . s-sorry!"

It was all his fault! His fault for being born in the first place! All he had ever caused others was pain and suffering and now . . and now death! He had killed a living being! The very being he cared for above all else! Above his own pitiful and useless life! How could he possible live with himself now?! He murdered her! He killed her in cold blood! He was worthless! Why did she try and save him?! Sophia didn't deserve to die like this! Not here, alone without her loved ones to surround her and wish her farewell! Without her mother or her friend Selena or Pascal or Clare to hold her and love her! He had robbed them of their goodbyes! He had robbed them of her! He wasn't worthy of any of the kindness or care or love she had given him! He didn't deserve it! Not after what he had done to her!

And yet, despite what he was telling himself, Quasi felt he still wanted it. He still wanted her kindness. He wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh. He wanted to hear her jokes and see her dance again. He wanted to hold her and have her hold him back. It was selfish, he knew. He didn't deserve it and yet, and yet he wanted it so badly it ached! He wanted to surround himself in her light and know that as long as she stood with him, the world was never as dark and cruel as Frollo said. That light and kindness and love did exist and it existed for him too! Was that so terrible? Was something like that, so wrong for him to want? To have? Was he to worthless or ugly to deserve such a wonderful, such a beautiful thing?

Quasi's sobs only grew as he continued to clutch Sophia's pale, unmoving form closer to him. Eventually, by some strength he still possessed, he managed to pulled away from her breast, which he had been crying over, and glance a quick look at her face. She was still pale and her eyes were still beneath their lids, indicating that no movement could be found. Still, in a strange sort of way, she looked at peace and there, upon her lips, was a faint, barely noticeable smile. As if, even though she had been through so much struggle and pain, she still had found a reason to be happy.

Quasi raised a shaking hand and gently pressed it to her cool, pale cheek and caressed the smooth, silk like skin there with the pad of his thumb. He had always wondered what they felt like. It had been a sort of mystery to him. It felt, a little comforting. Yet, he knew that it brought very little. He rather have her awake and healthy and standing feet away from him than have her so close when she was cold and injured and - . . He still couldn't bring himself to call her -

More tears flooded his eyes and it was with a heavy heart he knew it to be true. Sophia was dead. She had left this world in a very painful and wrong way. Sophia, who had been nothing but a gift to this world and to him, was gone because of the cruelty of others. Quasi's heart gave another painful lurch and then, he had another realization. He was mourning her as if she the very light of his life, and if that was so, if that was so than what was this feeling called? Was this . . . love? To care so deeply for another that their very absence from the world would leave them crippled and hopeless and unable to envision a life or a world without them? To care so much that it physically hurt to have them leave? To have this emptiness threaten to swallow you up into a darkness so deep that it would have been better to have never lived at all? Was that . . . what loving someone felt like?

Did he, Quasimodo, the bell-ringer of Notre Dame, truly love Sophia? Had he loved her all this time and not known it? Was that why he found everything she did endearing and cute and special? Was the terror he felt at the festival when that soldier threatened her life, love? Or the concern at seeing someone physically harm her and drawing blood? The feelings of warmth whenever she would stand too close to him? Or the anger he felt when Frollo tried to rip them apart in the Court of Miracles? The pain at leaving her behind to buy him and Esmeralda time to escape? Was that all the result of love and not friendship? Had he been in love with her all this time? Was that why he felt so alone and empty and lost right now? Because he loved her?

He . . loved her. He loved her. He loved her! He loved Sophia! He understood now! He understood love! He knew what it was like to love! He loved someone!

Quasi couldn't help the smile that crossed his face and he reached up again and stroked her cheek. He understood his feelings, finally! All this time he had been so confused and lost and now . . now he understood. He loved her! He loved her more than anything in his entire life. Now, now that he could understand it, could think it, would he be able to . . to say it? Aloud? Maybe, maybe then, she could somehow hear him?

"I," He began, feeling rather unsure and hesitant. Yet, he steeled himself and pushed on. "I-I . . love you, Sophia."

Then, feeling just a bit bold, he leaned over and pressed a gentle peck on her forehead. It was soft and his lips barely touched her skin, yet it was a kiss. Though, most girls would say it wasn't a true kiss, that it was something else entirely or some other excuse. Most girls today would call it something else or nothing at all. But, to Quasi, that was a true kiss. His very first to another. And it was genuine and real and true. It came from the bottom of his heart and only one person in his entire live was worth giving it to.

"I-I, love you too, Quasi."

**Awww man! I'm even crying!**

***Blows nose***

**Whaaaaaa! I want a Quasimodo in my life too! **

**Okay, okay I'm done! Really, I'm all good now.**

***Tears up again***

**WHAAAAAAAAA!**

***Blows nose again***

**Alright people, I think this chapter was the most difficult. I had to make several changes before I was fully satisfied with it. I hope you all enjoyed it. Especially the bit about Quasi finding out what love really is! And he did it all on his own! Way to go Quasi! We all believed in you! I did anyway. Well, nthere's not much to say after a scene like that so all I can say is . . . **

**REVIEW!**

**PLEASE! WITH A CHERRY ON TOP AND A NEW CHAPTER AS A REWARD!**

**P.S I know I said I'd kill Frollo but my muse ran away with me and now I have a different future planned out for him. Muwaha! **


	34. Sorrow

**Not much to say for this A/N but thank you. Thank you everyone! Readers, reviewers, followers, everybody! Thank you! I know I should of had this next chapter out a lot sooner, but I'm also just starting a new story in the book section of Fanfiction. Its going to be a The Hobbit story so if anyone is a Tolkien fan, please check it out. The story is called "Flitting Through Pages: A Reader's Odyssey."**

**I'm sorry for a late update but here it is, my new chapter. I'm sad to say that the end is coming everyone. Only a few more chapters to go. When exactly, I'm not sure but it is coming. I wanted to do more on this chapter but my muse had decided that it's done for a while. I've had a long hard week at work and nothing has gone the way I wanted it and I'm tired.  
**

**Also, the reason why this chapter is so short is because I don't think Phoebus and Esmeralda have had enough screen time together. So this chapter is dedicated to just them. I hope you enjoy it.**

**READ ON!**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Sorrow  
**

_**Third Person**_

_**Phoebus' POV**_

After handing Sophia's limp form to Quasi, the former Captain noticed that Frollo was slowly pushing himself upright from his spill upon the floor. Though, in truth, Quasi had flung the minister so hard that now the elder was having trouble moving. Phoebus could see he was favoring his right side, the very side in which he had fallen upon. Not waiting for Frollo to find an opportunity to escape, the ex-soldier rushed forward and yanked the minister up by the back of his robe.

"You," He growled, keeping his voice low so as not to draw Quasi's attention. "Are not going anywhere."

The poor boy had suffered enough, only to face the worst possible suffering of all. Losing the only one who had lived long enough for him to love in return. Phoebus felt his own body quake in both anger and shock. Sophia had become like a sister to him, had touched his own heart in such a way that it changed a part of him. In his own way, he had come to love her too. She had been a light, a fierce light to all who had ever had the pleasure to know her. She had loved those close to her with a fiery passion, her family, her friends, Esmeralda, even Phoebus himself. But most of all, the person she had cared for far beyond her own life, was Quasi. He was the only one who had held her heart, no one else. And, in Phoebus' opinion, no one else could ever hope to understand or to love him the way Sophia had. No one but her, could ever stand a chance at capturing his heart.

Roughly hauling the injured minister to his unsteady feet, Phoebus turned him about so Frollo could see the pair, practically forcing him to watch as Quasimodo clutched at Sophia's pale, unmoving form. Tears had begun to flow down the hunchback's face as he cradled her as if she was made of the most fragile china in all the world.

"Look at him!" The golden-haired man ordered, giving Frollo a fierce shake, his grip upon the minister's collar tightening. "Does that look like a man who has no idea what love is?! Does that look like a man who wouldn't give anything to have her back?!"

Without waiting for the minister to answer him, Phoebus threw the man to the ground and knelt over Frollo, who cried out in pain and gasped for breath. Esmeralda, who stood just a few feet away, looked upon the minister with an emotionless expression. Though, her own eyes were alight with a burning hatred that would have caused anyone to recoil from her gaze. Frollo would find no sympathy with her or anyone else currently present.

"I should kill you where you lay, for what you have done." The ex-soldier seethed in barely controlled anger. "You have committed a crime far more evil than anything you've done before. You've taken away any hope he had for a better life." Phoebus slowly stood, gazing down at Frollo with an expression as cold as ice. "But you know that already, do you not? Perhaps, you're satisfied at last? There's nothing that remains on this good earth that will hold him here, you know this. He no longer possesses the will to live without her. You have killed them both!"

Leaving Frollo to writhe upon the ground in pain, Phoebus turned around and went over to pick something up. When he returned, he held one of the broken lengths of chain in his hands.

"I will not kill you." He said slowly, picking the minister up by his collar and gesturing for Esmeralda to aid him. "No, I'll leave that in the hands of the people. Perhaps they'll string you up themselves and leave you for the crows. Though, I am not sure even they will want you."

With the help of Esmeralda, Phoebus bound the deranged minister, who had refused to speak let alone look at any of them, tightly with the iron length. Once he was secured and in no position to run away, the ex-soldier and gypsy pulled him to his feet and lead him out of the pillared corridor. Quasimodo deserved to have some moments peace with Sophia, even if it was only for while. Phoebus hated to think of what they may find when they came back, but he knew that Quasi needed time to say his farewells. He knew the pain the boy must be going through was the most terrible and soul racking form of torture anyone could ever experience. And if the boy wished for his own suffering to end with her, who was Phoebus to interfere? At least, in that way, the two of them could be together. Till the every end of time itself.

Sophia had kept her promise to him. She had brought Esmeralda back so he could hold her again. She had protected her and kept her safe for as long as she was able. The young redhead had kept her word, but at the cost of her own life. In that moment, Phoebus felt for the first time in his many years as a soldier, guilt of asking something of someone. Perhaps, if he had not asked her to bring Esmeralda back alive to him, that somehow Sophia would still be breathing. Perhaps, it was he, not Frollo, who had slain the young woman.

_**Third Person**_

_**Esmeralda's POV**_

As they entered a different corridor off to the right, the stress and plain exhaustion from the past hour or so began to take effect. Esmeralda leaned against the stone wall for support, her body becoming too heavy to hold up any longer. She allowed herself to slide down the wall and settle in a more comfortable position where she could regain her bearings. The aftereffects of the smoke still remained in her lungs, though her breathing was returning to normal. She gave a harsh cough, drawing the attention of Phoebus who still had a hold of Frollo.

"Esmeralda?" Concern was plain as day in the ex-soldier's tones.

"I am well, Phoebus." She disputed, trying to put his fears to rest. "It is nothing more than a bit of smoke."

Not at all convinced, Phoebus forced the cruel minister to the ground and secured the man's legs with a second length of chain. Leaving Frollo, who now no matter the circumstances, could not flee even if he wished to, in the middle of the hallway, Phoebus bounded to her side and knelt, taking one of her tan hands in his own.

"Are you certain?" He pressed, frowning at her pale face and looking rather unsure of what to do. "Is there nothing to put you at ease?"

Esmeralda shook her head sadly, her dark curls bouncing as she did so. "No, not unless you have the power to bring her back. That would surely set my heart at further ease."

Phoebus' facial expression was a look in which the gypsy decided did not look well on his features. She reached over and grasped his shoulder for support and leaned her forehead against his breast. Almost immediately, tears began to descend down her cheeks and Esmeralda let out a muffled sob.

"This should not have happened Phoebus. She cannot be-" She trailed off, unable to finish her thought aloud. Though, she did not need to. He too understood. "How did it come to this?"

Suddenly, Esmeralda felt her body shift and when she raised her head, she found that Phoebus had picked her up. Before she could question what he was going, he led her off to an adjacent stairwell and ascended the steps until Frollo, who now had done the only thing he was able and sat down against the opposite wall, was out of sight. Once she could no longer see the minister, Phoebus set her down on her feet on one of the landings and threw his arms around her, holding her tightly against him and running his hand through her wild raven hair.

"Shh." He whispered in the shell of her ear, his voice soft and gentle. "Shh, Esmeralda. I am here. I am here."

Esmeralda, who no longer could hold back her tears, sobbed openly in his arms and clung to him as if he was the only thing that could keep her grounded. It hurt so much to see her friends in such a way and she had no power to stop or prevent any of it. She didn't know what to do! She wanted everything to turn out for the better, but how could it be so? Sophia had looked so pale! She had not moved or groaned or had made any motion that life still resided in that small frame! And Quasi! Oh, the boy was heartbroken! How could he possibly wished to remain a part of this world without the young redhead? She had given him a reason for living; that his life had some meaning, even if he did not fully understand it. Now that Sophia was gone, what would Quasi do?

The gypsy did not want to think about what he would do to himself. In fact, they should have never left him alone with her!

"W-we must g-go back, Phoebus." Esmeralda drew herself away from the former Captain and made to remove herself from his hold. "We should not have left him alone. Who knows what he will do now?"

However, Phoebus caught her gently around the waist and pulled her back to him. One because he wasn't quite really to let her leave his side just yet and two, because she needed to hear what he had to say.

"Esmeralda," He began slowly, his gray eyes swimming with tears of his own. "He needs to say good-bye to her. Let him be."

Confusion began to roll through her. She shook her head, "What if he should hurt himself? We can not just sand by and let him-"

"And let him what? Join her?" Phoebus' expression hardened slightly and he reached over and placed both of his hands atop the gypsy's shoulders, giving her a firm shake. " Did you not see him Esmeralda?! Quasimodo is in more pain and suffering now than ever before. Nothing Frollo ever did to him could possibly be worse than this! Who in his position would _want_ to live now?"

"What are you saying?" Esmeralda asked, wide-eyed in confusion and horror. "That we should just let him-"

Phoebus sighed heavily, almost painfully, and brought the gypsy closer to him so he could once again hold her. "Esmeralda, would you want to live after someone took away the only thing that made this world bearable? If you were in his position, with no one else who cared or loved you, would you want to continue in a world that hated and despised you?"

"But he isn't despised!" Esmeralda protested, gently pounding a fist against his shoulder in grief. "What about us, Phoebus? Could he not continue knowing that he had friends who cared?"

"And do you truly believe that we are enough to hold him here?" Phoebus asked, his voice so quiet that she almost could not hear him. "Think about it Esmeralda. Even if he did decide to chose life, he would never be the same. Sophia meant everything to him. She was the first person from the outside to truly come to love him, Esmeralda. Not only that, but they had known each other for years! Years!" He gave her shoulders a gentle shake, trying to convey thoughts he could no longer find the words to speak. "To have someone so apart of your life and for so long, for them to just disappear from it . . ! It's unbearable!"

Here his voice cracked and Esmeralda could see that some kind of deeper pain lay behind Phoebus' words. But before she could question it, the ex-soldier continued.

"Especially for someone like Quasimodo. Ordinary people, people like you and I, we have others to lean on. We have family and friends and those who would help us. Quasi-" Again Phoebus faltered, a pained look in his eyes. At that moment, Esmeralda could see just how much the golden-haired man cared for both of them. The hunchback and the young redhead had come to mean more to the ex-captain than Esmeralda first realized. "Quasi only has us and I do not believe we are enough."

Esmeralda shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. She did not want to admit it, but she knew it to be true. She wanted to believe that Quasi could move on, that he could live a normal life even without Sophia. But, she understood now that Quasi was not like other people. He had lived so much of his life alone and in the dark that the one thing that kept him going, the one thing that made his sad story worth it, was gone. He would not know what to do with himself. Quasi, who was at hear the most gentlest of giants, would never be the same. He had become so dependent on the redhead for joy and for acceptance, that now that she was gone that joy and acceptance had left with her. He now felt as if there was no one left in his life that made living worth it. He had no one. He was alone.

Her and Phoebus were not enough. They had not known him long enough for a bond as strong as his and Sophia's had been, to form.

"Then," Esmeralda began, trying to understand what to do. "What are we to do Phoebus?"

"We let them have a few moments peace." The former Captain held her tighter and stroked her head gently, giving her as much comfort as he could, while also taking comfort in having the one _he_ loved close. "Then, we shall return to them and see what path Quasi has chosen for himself. No matter that path Esmeralda, no matter what, we will honor them both. For I have never met a braver, more courageous pair of human beings in my entire career on the battlefield."

With that, Phoebus pulled away slightly and pressed a gentle kiss upon Esmeralda's lips.

**Yes, short I know but I thought Phoebus and Esmeralda deserved their own chapter together. I also thought it would be interesting to see how Phoebus would approach the fact that Quasi is now mourning Sophia's death. Even though we know at this point she's not dead, but Phoebus and Esme don't know that. In any case, I thought this chapter was a nice addition to the story and conveyed a lot of mental emotion.**

**Please leave me a review in the box below and I'll get back to you soon.**


	35. A Glowing Ember

**Soooooo I have returned! Yes, I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry for the lacking of updates. But, on the brighter side, I've put my Hobbit story on hold so I can finish this one. This story has three more chapters after this one at most. I promise! Maybe . . . still not sure on that one. But, I think three more is enough to draw a conclusion. Anyway, I know you're eager to find out what happens next so . . . READ ON!**

**Chapter Thirty-Five **

**A Glowing Ember**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

She heard his voice calling out for her. His broken, bell-like tones rang out with intense despair and . . . hopelessness? Never before had she ever heard his beautiful, soft voice so sad and so desperate. As if everything he ever loved had been torn completely away from him. Why was he in such pain? He shouldn't be in such turmoil, such agony as he sounded now, at this moment. As the intonation of his voice rose and fell, Sophia's mind, hazy from obvious exhaustion, slowly, and with great resistance, began to sift through the dense fog that covered her consciousness. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. What that something was she did not know however, she was convinced that all was not well.

She struggled, realizing as her mind slowly began to respond that she now had find a way to wake herself physically. A challenge Sophia was already beginning to feel as demanding. Her sub-consciousness was not yet healed, let alone her physical being. Everything felt heavy, heavier than anything she had experienced before. An immense sense of exhaustion and tiredness pressed down upon her, encouraging her to lay still. To finally succumb to sleep and rest. Rest, something Sophia would love nothing more. She was tired, in both body and soul. And sleep never sounded so welcoming, so enticing.

Again, Quasi's disheartened cries of sorrow ripped through the thin walls of her mind, alerting her once more that something was wrong. And, with the greatest of effort, Sophia forced herself away from sleep, away from the rest she dearly wished for, and tentatively opened her eyes, which she could only manage to open halfway. Her vision was so blurry and distorted, she almost couldn't see anything besides faded wisps of color. However, with two careful, slow blinks, her sight cleared just enough for her to make out the only person that really mattered. Quasi.

And he was crying. Large tears flowed freely from his pale blue eyes and already dried tear-tracks marred his pale cheeks. His face was bent over her, a lock of fiery red hair had fallen from its place behind his ear, thus obstructing the sight of his one good eye and preventing him from seeing her. Hard, grief racking sobs shook his stout frame so violently, Sophia could feel the sheer intensity behind them. She tried to move, but found her body was so stiff and heavy that she quickly gave up any hope. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but her tongue felt equally as heavy as her limbs and refused to cooperate. She couldn't even make a single sound to alert him of her presence. Then, another realization hit her. Sophia may not have been able to move, but she could feel. And what she felt, what she saw, was Quasi's thick, strong, arms holding her. Tightly. So tightly that she feared he may break her in two, but she put it aside. Her own personal comfort no longer mattered to her. Quasi was suffering, terribly.

One of his arms was wrapped underneath her shoulders, thus supporting her upper body and head. The hand upon this arm was wound so intricately into her curls, she doubted that anything could remove it without his will to do so. Every now and then, his fingers would tighten, causing his grip upon her hair to almost rip the short, curly locks out by the roots. But again, she ignored the discomfort. The other arm however, was draped limply across her waist. The only life in it she could sense was that every so often, the fist would open and clutch at her tunic, as if the owner of the hand was riding some harsh wave of pain.

Pain.

Without warning, hot white flames seared across her skin, licking at her side and one of her wrists. It was as if someone had lit a fire under her. Instantly, her eyes slammed shut in the vain attempt to block out the harsh near unbearable agony that flowed through her veins. Her body, which before she had not the strength to move, seemed to spasm as fire continued to rapidly course through her. By some miracle she never screamed. Not a sound escaped her as this terrible agony racked her body. But Sophia was so consumed by pain and distress, that she never noticed when something soft caressed the skin of one of her cheeks. However it was what followed _after_, she managed to make out.

"I-I, I love you . . . Sophia."

Suddenly it was as if the pain no longer mattered anymore. Sophia couldn't believe her ears! Had she really heard what she thought she heard? Was her mind playing tricks on her now? But, it couldn't be. Quasi . . he sounded so . . . genuine! So heartfelt! No, it couldn't be her mind. It couldn't be a trick. It was real. It had to be! She felt her heart swell at his words, those three _wonderful_ words she never thought she'd ever hear from him. He knew, he understood his own feelings at last! And he said them all on his own, without her help. That alone made his confession all the more touching, all the more beautiful. He hadn't needed her to help him after all. He did it all on his own, on his own power. Quasi loved her! He told her he _loved_ her!

Before she even had the chance to open her eyes, let alone try to answer his confession, Sophia felt something warm, yet so feather-light, press itself against the skin of her brow. Instantly her mind went blank, as if all thought had been wiped entirely from her consciousness. She couldn't process whatever happened or was even sure if anything did. Had Quasi just . . . ? All at once, her mind came back to life. The pain in her side and wrist was barely noticeable now. Nothing mattered except for his words and the warm feeling that was beginning to spread from her forehead down to the very tips of the toes on her feet. With little to no effort, Sophia's eyes fluttered, then opened. And this time, though abet shaky and hoarse, her voice decided to cooperate.

"I-I love you too, Quasi."

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

His eyes, which had been closed, immediately flew open at the sound of that all too familiar voice. It couldn't be! Quasi pulled away from Sophia's limp form, unable to believe what he thought was her voice. Yet, as he searched her pale face, he found two barely opened blue eyes and the slight smile that had been there before, had widened just a fraction.

"S-Sophia?" He choked, unable to mask the sheer amount of shock and disbelief that leaked into his soft, quiet tones.

This couldn't be real. His mind was imagining this. Sophia couldn't be-. She had been so lifeless, so cold . . . it had to be a dream. He slowly raised his free hand and made to bring it to one of her pale cheeks yet he hesitated, allowing the appendage to hover over her, fingers outstretched. As if afraid that by touching her would break some spell, causing this to spiral into some nightmare were nothing had changed. That all he was seeing was nothing more than his mind collapsing in on itself. Yet, how could it? Her eyes, still half-lidded, as if lacking the strength to open fully, flickered slowly between his outstretched hand and his face. They moved! And while they were barely open and covered by some cloud, whether it be exhaustion or pain (or perhaps a combination of the two), they still contained a flicker of life. Some small amount of light remained in those sky blue orbs. Sophia was still alive!

"Q-Qua . . si."

The sound was barely audible. In fact, if he hadn't been hanging on to every slight movement, he never would have heard it. Her voice came scratchy and hoarse, cracking horribly as she tried to form his name. His eyes widened in extended shock. This only solidified what his mind was already barely trying to believe. Sophia _was_ alive! She wasn't . . . she wasn't . . .

A choked half sob, half gasp of wonder tore from his chest, racking his stout form in a wave of relief and joy; renewed tears began to flow down his ruined features. Slowly, as if in a dream, Quasi took his raised hand and gently pressed his rather large palm to Sophia's pale cheek. It was not as cold as it had been not a moment ago, some warmth had returned to the smooth skin. Her eyes, at that moment, misted over and began to close; a small shuttering breath escaping her as she did so. A wave of panic suddenly hit him at her reaction to his touch and Quasi felt ice flood his veins instantly.

"No! Sophia!" He carefully shifted her in his arms, bringing her upper body towards him. Quasi carefully settled her against his shoulder and the crook of his arm, allowing her to lean against him for support while also letting her sit somewhat upright. He gently gave her a firm shake, nothing to cause any unnecessary pain, but enough to rouse her. "Open your eyes! You must stay awake!"

Instantly her eyes reopened, yet they still could not manage to open fully. Quasi realized in that horrible moment that although Sophia was not yet gone, she _was_ fading. She had barely any strength left, hardly enough to keep her eyes open let alone to try and speak. Risking a quick glance, he scanned her for injuries, remembering that she had been dealt several hard blows. Her left wrist was broken in two places. The was a shallow, but long cut on the other side of her neck, just above the collarbone. An almost exact match to the one the guard from the festival gave her not two days ago. There was also a slightly deeper gash on her right cheek, though not as long as the one upon her neck and several bruises marred the skin upon her arms.

Yet, none of these could compare to the injury upon her right side. Quasi dared not unwind the makeshift bandage, made from her own tunic, that was clearly binding the wound and preventing it from weeping blood. Despite this, the life crucial essence had seeped through and stained the already red fabric a deep, dark crimson. He knew not how deep the wound went or its width, but what he did know was that removing the bandage was out of the question. Doing so would surely result in . . . He couldn't bring himself to think further. He needed help. Sophia needed help. If Quasi didn't find a solution fast, she truly was going to . . . Again he feared the word that came into his thoughts, but he pushed the fear away. He needed to control his emotions or else he was going to cause her to panic.

"S-Sophia?" He whispered gently, his voice far too low, and trying to keep the fear out of his tones. "S-Sophia, can . . . can you hear me?"

The young redhead lifted her head ever so slightly so that her half open, misty sky blue eyes were gazing up at him. She offered him a tiny nod, yet he could see the sheer amount of effort it took for her to do so. She nearly had little to no strength left in her at all. Gulping, and trying to keep his fraying emotions in check, Quasi nodded stiffly back and sucked in a deep breath.

"P-please," He pleaded shakily, his voice cracking in the process. He inwardly flinched, his voice sounded far too high and desperate. "T-try to stay awake."

Giving himself a hard shake, Quasi steeled himself and raised his head. Glancing about the corridor, he saw that Phoebus and Esmeralda were nowhere to be found. Phoebus and Esmeralda were nowhere to be found. Frollo too was absent, but that was more of a relief and a blessing than anything else. He couldn't do this on his own. Quasi feared that if he tried to move the young redhead anymore than he already had, he would end up causing more harm than good. Phoebus. The one man Quasi could trust above all else to help Sophia. He would have some idea of what to do. Anything Quasi was incapable of doing, Phoebus had proven he could. The former soldier had been there for her before, he could help her now. With this in mind, Quasi looked down at Sophia (who was resting against his shoulder, still struggling to keep her eyes open) and gently stroked her cheek.

"Sophia?" He asked softly, his voice just a little bit stronger this time.

She blinked, recognition and awareness returning to her eyes which instantly sought his own. She blinked again, this time much more slowly, and exhaled heavily.

"Y-yes?" She breathed, her voice still raspy and hoarse; closing her eyes.

Quasi felt his heart give a painful lurch at the sound. It resembled nothing like her beautiful, gentle tones. However, he took the hand that rested against her cheek and threaded it through her curls, trying to give her as much comfort as he was able. At the sudden and unexpected action, Sophia opened her eyes once more and this time, they were a bit wider than they were before. Her expression soften then and a tiny, ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. At her gentle expression, Quasi again felt his heart hitch, but this was a different feeling from the ones before. This time, the moment she smiled at him, a fierce warmth spread across his chest and continued to coarse through the rest of his body. It was as if someone had lit him up from the inside out.

Yet, as Quasi opened his mouth to speak, Sophia's eyes suddenly flew wide open and a deep, pain ridden gasp tore from her lips. Her body gave a hard shutter, her sky blue eyes glazed over, and then rolled backwards before her lids closed, shielding her eyes from view. She gasped again and then released a small groan. Whatever amount of pain she was in, it clearly was far too much. His eyes widen in shock as her cheek fell against his shoulder and her body tensed as an intense wave of pain flowed through her.

"Sophia?!" Quasi immediately forwent any amount of calm. Instead raw panic hit him faster than ever before and this time, he didn't hesitate. The arm that was supporting her shoulders tightened instantaneously while his other shot underneath her knees, gripping her lower thigh tightly as if to ground himself. "_Sophia!_"

She was still conscious, he could tell, though her breathing had quickened and her eyes moved rapidly from under their lids, which were squeezed tightly as if to somehow bar away the pain. She was in far too much pain for him to help and he was far too panicked and emotional to be of any use. He didn't know what to do. What could he do? There must be _something_ . . . Suddenly Quasi felt that Sophia needed to be set upon something stable. Holding her like he was, was probably causing her wounds to flex and become irritated. For all he knew, he had rubbed an injury the wrong way and had caused the bout of pain that Sophia was now trying to fight off.

With the utmost care, he gently lowered her to the stone floor of the corridor; making sure that he was mindful of her injuries. Once she was settled, he made to pull away yet as he did so, one of Sophia's hands caught hold of two fingers upon his right hand, refusing to let go. His hand was far too large for her tiny one, so two fingers were about as much as she could wrap her hand around, yet her grip was far stronger than he anticipated. He winced slightly as they tightened further upon his fingers, feeling the amount of pain she must be in for her to inflict such strength. Quasi lifted his free hand to her brow and wiped away the beads of sweat that were beginning to accumulate there. Her face, which had regained a bit of color, was pale again, but thankfully not as much as she had been. She still kept her eyes shut, in far too much pain to open them.

A heartbreaking sob found its way passed her lips and small tears began to flow from the corners of her eyes. Quasi's heart gave another feeble throb at the sight of her pain. She was suffering so greatly, yet there was nothing within his power to stop it. He couldn't stop his own tears from escaping and a sob of his own bubbled passed his lips. Despair began to take hold within his heart. It was hopeless! There was nothing he could do for her! She was fading right before his eyes and he couldn't keep himself calm enough to aid her! T'would have been better if she had passed before now, so as not to suffer like she clearly was. This was torture! She could feel every wound against her, every injury, every pain! She could _feel_ it!

Quasi bent over her, trying so hard to get his voice to work, to speak comforts to her to ease the pain, yet nothing but choked sobs and tears came forth. So he continued to stroke her brow gently, wiping away the sweat and dirt that covered the skin there. He wanted to pick her up in his arms again but was too afraid that the action would place her in more harm. The last thing he wanted to do at this moment was to cause her more pain. More suffering. Then, suddenly, something dawn upon him. Something he had forgotten.

Mustering every bit of strength and control he could manage, Quasi lifted his head towards the doorway that Phoebus and Esmeralda had disappeared through and shouted desperately, "_Phoebus! Esmeralda!"_

**_Third Person_**

**_Phoebus' POV_**

At the sound of his name being called so desperately and so full of fear, Phoebus abruptly pulled away from Esmeralda. Shock was clear upon her face, her emerald eyes stretched. Phoebus suddenly had the distinct impression that his own mirrored that of the ebony-haired woman. However, her shock was quickly replaced by fear when she recognized the owner of such a voice. He too, for that matter, also knew who it was in an instant.

"Quasimodo." They both said in unison.

And with that, they both turned and fled down the spiral staircase as fast as their legs could carry them. When they reached the bottom they raced for the corridor they had left Quasi and Sophia in, bypassing Frollo altogether who still remained chained and seated against the wall of the staircase. He glared angrily at the two figures yet neither of them noticed nor cared and disappeared from sight the moment they had entered.

As Phoebus entered back into the stone corridor, he was left with a sight that nearly sent him spiraling into tears himself. There, laying flat on the stone floor, was Sophia. Yet, she was not motionless as she was before! Her chest rose and fell heavily and every now and then a hand or her head would jerk sharply as if in great pain. Gasps and sobs filled with pain was the next thing that Phoebus noticed and it was with a mixture of joy and terror that he realized that she was still alive! Immediately he shot forward, rushing to Sophia's free side that was not occupied by Quasi's stout frame. It was only when he knelt beside her pain racked form did Phoebus notice Quasi's physical state.

He was pale, paler than he had ever seen the boy. His coarse red hair stood out sharply against his skin and both dried and fresh tears could be seen upon the hunchback's face. The hand that was not currently in use by which Sophia was clinging to like a lifeline, was clutched tightly into a fist at his side and shook so violently that Phoebus feared he may hit someone. Thankfully Esmeralda rounded around Sophia, knelt down beside Quasi, and took his shaking hand in hers. A sad smile shone upon her face as her own eyes filled with renewed tears. Instantly Quasi collapsed against her, removing his free hand from hers and instead, wrapped it about the gypsy's shoulders. He drew he near in a great embraced and began to sob uncontrollably in her arms. Nevertheless, he never released his grip on Sophia's small hand.

Phoebus, who bore no ill will against Quasi seeking comfort from Esmeralda, returned his attention to Sophia, who was still trembling in pain. Her eyes were close tightly and it was very possible that she could no longer hear anything by the amount of pain she was in. It was true that she was still alive, but only just. It was a miracle that she had survived this long, what with considering the extent of her injuries. The only one of these that was more or less a mortal wound, was the one upon her side. She was clearly fading, Phoebus had seen enough mortal wounds and death in the war to be able to tell. Yet, there was a chance that they could save her. If they acted fast enough that was.

"C-can you-" Quasi sobbed openly from Esmeralda's shoulder. She returned his embraced and looked to Phoebus with pleading eyes of her own. "S-save . . her?"

Phoebus felt his stomach churn violently at the shattered and broken request. He was not a healer. He could not mend flesh, fix bone, or anything of the sort. He was not trained for such things. He was a soldier. He had been trained to end lives, not save them. He had been trained to show no mercy to his enemies, to smite them with sword and pike. To strive for his king and to meet the enemy head on with no trace of fear. He could no more heal Sophia than he could heal himself.

"Quasi," He began sorrowfully, lowering his gaze to Sophia's trembling form. He could not look at him, to meet his eyes and see the fear and disappointment in them. To allow him to see how when Sophia needed him the most he could do nothing to aid her. "I'm a soldier. The only thing I'm capable of, is taking lives. Not saving them."

He kept his head lowered, afraid to see the reactions of his friends and the woman who held his own heart. Yet, a slim, tanned hand reached out and cupped his chin, forcing him to raise his eyes to their owner. It was none other than Esmeralda.

"Phoebus," She said gently, offering him a small smile and her eyes bright with tears. "You are capable of much more than death. You saved her life."

"Yes," He replied bitterly, turning his head away from her. "Only for her to perish at the hands of a sword and the results of a long fall."

"That was not by your hands." Esmeralda frowned.

"It may as well have been!" Phoebus snapped, turning his head back towards her and rounding on her in anger. "I may as well have been the one to stab her myself! This would not have happened if I had not-"

"E-excuse me," Said a barely audible, clearly hoarse voice. "B-but I-I'm not d-dead yet."

Quasi, Esmeralda, and Phoebus all looked down at the owner of the voice. Sophia's sky blue eyes were barely open, yet a hint of their azure hue could still be seen. What was meant to be a smile was instead the cross between a grimace and a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. Yet, some of her former self had broken through the haze of pain and agony. Tears still lingered in her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Y-you c-can't-" She trailed off, yet did not give up. "G-get rid . . of m-me . . th-that e-easily."

**Way to pull through Sophia! I hope everyone liked this chapter and please give Sophia some slack. She DID get stabbed and fell some odd feet from the top of Notre Dame. I'd say she's a bit banged up myself. She's going to have one hell of a recovery after this. Ouch!**

**Please leave me a nice review in the box below and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Which will now be a heck of a lot sooner seeing as I'm back to doing one story at a time. Till next we meet my friends!**


	36. Into the Sunlight (revised)

**Truly sorry my friends, but last chapter really did seem too short for my tastes. I deleted the previous Chapter 36 and replaced it with this longer version. So even if you've already read the previous one, you might want to take a look at this one. I feel that adding the bit I did at the end will help hold you over until next chapter and makes this one a bit more interesting. I also found that my previous Chapter 36 seemed a bit bland and not much happened that was interesting. So, I added a good 700 or so words at the end to help move the story along a bit. **

**In any case, please, read on!**

**Chapter Thirty-Six **

**Into the Sunlight**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

The next thing she knew, she was being lifted carefully into someone's arms. A pair of very strong, very warm, and all too familiar arms. Phoebus and Esmeralda were speaking but she didn't really have the concentration necessary to keep up. Instead, she simply focused on controlling her breathing, taking deep, slow breaths, and keeping her mind clear of most thought. It was about the only way she could find to block out the agony her body was in and keep herself from writhing around. Sudden movement was not advisable at the current moment. She needed to empty her thoughts, focus on nothing, and yet everything, but the pain. She felt Quasi's grip about her shoulder and knee tighten slightly, giving her a small squeeze as if to relay some form of comfort.

And then they were moving.

It was hurried and yet, not rough or jostling. They turned, probably heading out of the corridor they had been currently in and began making their way down another. They stopped briefly, pausing only for a moment or two. She could hear Esmeralda and Phoebus conversing again; Quasi too said a word or two, then fell silent. He did, however, give the shoulder he was clutching another gentle, comforting squeeze. This time, Sophia gave a low hum in response, not quite feeling up to attempting to speak again. Whatever was contained in her friends words, she did not know. She was too focused on trying _not_ to focus. There was the rustling of chains and they were off again, traveling down the corridor, then turning into a stairwell, and continuing onward. Sophia let her head rest against the juncture of Quasi's neck and shoulder, settling in the small hollow that resided there while her cheek rested against his collarbone. It was quite comfortable.

Down and down and down they went. They twisted and turned, following whatever path Phoebus or Esmeralda decided to venture. By now however, Sophia thought they were nearing the bottom of the second staircase. She caught whispers of conversation, but not enough to put together what exactly they were discussing. This was probably due to the fact that they were several feet ahead of Quasi and herself and that was because Quasi was slowed down considerably, not just by her added weight, but also because they were going down steps. He probably didn't want to risk keeping up with the others in case the pacing was too fast or too rough.

On the brighter side of things she had managed to open her eyes again, abet barely. Only enough to make out the stones of the walls they passed and the light of torches. But even while glancing about at her surroundings, her gaze kept flitting back to Quasi. From her angle she could only see him in profile and then only from an upward point of view. Her eyes flitted to his face, which was a shade or two paler than normal and that one lock of vibrant crimson had fallen back into his good eye again.

Sophia chuckled softly. Some things, no matter how small, never change.

"And what, pray tell, is so humorous?"

She tilted her head back slightly to see him better. A ghost of a smile was slowly tugging at the corners of his lips and a bit of color had returned to his cheeks. A smile of her own stretched wide across her features as she reached up to tuck his stray locks behind his ear.

"Y-your hair." She replied simply, her throat still sore from the lack of use.

"And what about my hair?" He asked, still smiling, though it seemed strained and did not quite reach his eyes.

Quasi's strained expression was not lost on her, but she chose to let it go. He was under enough stress as it was and her pointing it out aloud was not going to make him feel any better. Instead, she gently tucked away the crimson strands and as she did so, the pads of her fingers lightly brushed along the contour of his ear. The skin there was smooth and quite soft, something she wasn't exactly expecting. But then, she had never touched his ear before either.

It was a whole new experience.

Suddenly she felt him stiffen, then shiver as her fingers continued to trace along the shape of the appendage and, fearing that she had done something she should not have, pulled away her fingers as if she had been burnt.

"I-I'm sorry," Sophia clasped the offending appendage in her other hand and her fingers began to twist about out of nervousness. Unable to look him fully in the eyes, she fixed her own on anything and anywhere but him. Her words began tumbling out so fast, she wasn't sure he was even able to discern what was being said. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have done that. Wh-what were you saying be-before, Quasi?"

But whatever Quasi might have said, or was going to say, was instantly lost when the wound on her side suddenly flared to life and gave a very painful twinge. She grimaced and clamped her teeth together as hard as she could in order to refrain from becoming vocal. She buried her face deep into his tunic and tried to focus on the ever present scent of bell polish and wood shavings. She gave a shuddering breath and succeeded in swallowing a small sob that threatened to find its way past her lips. Sophia then felt herself being shifted about and the next thing she knew, a cool hand had pressed itself against her temple, gently smoothing away the tension that had risen there.

"Shh." The unmistakable bell-like tinkle of Quasi's voice trickled through her mind and chased away most of the discomfort. "Shh, Sophia, all is well. Do not apologize, just . . lie still for now."

The wave passed as quickly as it had come and, if it was at all possible, she felt even more exhausted then she had before.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He watched as Sophia took another shuddering breath and snuggled deeper into his tunic, continuing to rest her curly head against his shoulder. He didn't mind the weight against it, in truth, having her so close felt rather . . . comforting. It eased him somewhat, though did not chase away all the worry and stress he was currently feeling. Suddenly, his thoughts drifted to the memory of her feather-light touch upon his ear. The sensation had been something he had never felt before, but then no one had ever touched his ear in such a way, and he shivered again at the memory.

Almost instantly however, the cold reality of Sophia's physical heath came swooping down upon him; filling him again with the sense of urgency. So he continued down the rest of the staircase, mindful not to move at too fast a pace. He briefly noticed that Sophia's eyes had closed again but he could still feel the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders, one of which was grasped firmly in his right hand. There was no cause to panic, not yet at least.

When he reached the bottom, he was greeted with the sight of Phoebus and Esmeralda, who were both waiting for him. The ex-Captain however, had looped one of his hands under one of the links of chains that bound a third figure, thus eliminating any chance for his escape. Quasi chanced a quick glance at the older man but then hurriedly looked away. Not aware that he was doing so, he held Sophia just a little bit closer to him.

"How is she?" The moment Esmeralda had seen him, she wasted no time in approaching. Worry however, was clearly seen upon her face and her eyebrows were deeply furrowed. "Has there been any change?"

Again, Quasi's gaze flitted to Frollo's bound form. He was standing slightly in front of Phoebus but was angled in such a way that from Quasi's view, the man was standing profile to him. A cold, steel gray eye shifted and glared at the young hunchback for a brief moment before flitting back to an opposite wall. Quasi shifted nervously and tried focusing on answering Esmeralda.

"T-the wound in her side is giving her the most trouble." He managed nervously, still watching the former minister from the corner of his eye. "If she speaks too fast or moves too much, it becomes irritated."

Esmeralda nodded in understanding and leaned in closer to examine Sophia's small form.

"We cannot stay here." Said Phoebus, being the ever voice of reason. "Sophia needs a place of healing and _this,_" He suddenly spat, giving a harsh tug upon the chain that bound Frollo and shot the man a withering glare of his own. "Needs to be taken to the Palace of Justice."

But then a sly and sinister grin crossed over the golden-haired man's features and he roughly jerked the older man towards him. "Of course, we could just leave you for the crowd that's just beyond those doors." Here he nodded his head towards Notre Dame's giant oak doors; one of which, possessed a great, gaping hole near its lock. "I'm sure they would be more than glad than to dispose of you. It's no more than you deserve."

For the first time, Quasi saw a look of pure, unadulterated fear cross Frollo's face and those gray steel eyes widened in growing horror. A small part of Quasi felt sorry for the minister, but that pity was soon washed away when he looked down at the tiny figure he held in his arms. Frollo had nearly killed her, had nearly killed Esmeralda. Did the man deserve pity? Did he deserve mercy? Still, as much as Quasi now despised the older man, he found, deep in his heart, that he felt some sort of sorrow for him. If in only the fact that the man had never discovered what love really meant.

"No, please!" Frollo begged, his eyes wide with pleading. "Have mercy! They will kill me!"

"Why?" Asked Phoebus coldly, but even. "Give me one reason why we shouldn't."

"Because, we would be no better than him."

Everyone turned in surprise (all except for Quasi, who only had to glance downwards) as Sophia began to shift herself to where she was more or less sitting than laying in his hold. Quasi tried to placate her into laying back, but she shook her head slightly in light protest. He heaved a small sigh at her refusal to stay still, but assisted the young redhead in finding a more practical position. In order to keep her balance, however, she wrapped her small arms about his neck, careful not to choke him as she did so. Quasi simply helped guide her arms around him, finding that while she was recovering slightly, he did not want her to do more than necessary. Quasi also took note, that when she had spoken, her voice had, for the first time, come out strong and clear. More color had returned to her complexion, and her eyes had regained their former spark. Even her hair looked a shade or two brighter.

Phoebus, once he had recovered himself, shook his head and shot another withering glare at the former minister. "It really doesn't concern me," He said bitterly, resenting every word he spoke yet feeling he had no choice in the matter. "I'm not the one he almost killed."

As if to diffuse the steadily growing tension, Esmeralda suddenly turned her head and looked curiously at Notre Dame's middle double oak doors. Faint cries and shouts were heard from the other side, even from the distance they were currently standing at. Quasi too turned to look and found that bright, golden light was seeping in through the fairly large hole in one of the giant doors. Daylight, it seemed, had finally come.

"Come," Said Esmeralda, turning about so she could face everyone. She gestured to the doors and small smile spread across her face. "A new day awaits. And there is much to be done before the sun beds itself over the hills once more."

And so they continued forward.

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Quasi?" She asked quietly, her voice low enough that neither of their friends or Frollo, all three of which led the way to the great doors, could hear them. "Are you well? You look, a bit pale."

It was true, his face had again lost some of its color in the short amount of time since the started walking towards the entrance. He didn't look at her, but heaved a small sigh and shook his head.

"It- It is nothing, Sophia." He finally said after a moment of silence, though it was clear by the expression of apprehension on his face that it was not nothing.

Now it was her turn to sigh, but she did not press. If he did not want to tell her right now, than that was perfectly acceptable. After all, she had not exactly been honest with Quasi for the past few days. She had hid so much from him. All the men her mother was trying for her to court, her fake engagement to Phoebus, her true feelings for him . . . it seemed that even though the list was rather short, what few it did contain was very heavy. Sophia felt ashamed of herself now. After all her talk of saying how much she trusted Quasi, she couldn't trust him enough with her raw feelings. How he even could stand to hold her right now she did not know.

Would he forgive her? _Could_ he forgive her?

Suddenly Quasi halted in his steps and Sophia raised her head to see why he had stopped. Phoebus and Esmeralda were paused just before them, in front of Notre Dame's doors. They both turned to the other, smiles wide upon their faces, gave a small nod, and with a flourish of style all their own, flung open the twin doors. Bright, blinding light spilled into the dark expanses of the cathedral, chasing away the darkness of the night before and filling it with the promise of a new and brighter day.

Sophia raised her hands to block out the intensity of the golden rays while Quasi had to turn his head to the left as he had no hands to shield himself. Their friends, along with a very reluctant Frollo, on the other hand, sprung instantly into the sunlight and out into the open air. Cries and shouts instantly roared to life and fierce applause greeted Sophia with a ringing her ears would never forget. But after a moment or two she realized they were still encased in the shadow of a pillar. Even more alarming, Quasi seem to shrink _away_ from the light, as if somehow terrified by it.

"Quasi?" The young redhead asked cautiously, her concern for him growing. "Quasi, what is wrong?"

"I-I can't-" He trailed off, his voice so small that she had barely heard him.

He turned his head away from her, that one lock of hair falling into his one good eye as it always did. She was beginning to understand that one lock of hair acted as sort of a shield for him, protecting him from what he feared or from what threatened him. A way for him to hide away so the rest of the world couldn't touch what was left of his broken, shattered being. That lock of hair was one of the only things protecting him, a piece of himself that would rise up and shield the remains of a man who, if from the start, could have lived a much more love filled life. But, Quasi couldn't hide away completely from the world. Not anymore. The door was open now, there was nothing holding him back. Nothing of course, except himself.

"Quasi," Sophia reached up and gently cupped his cheek, turning his head back towards her. His pale blues eyes filled with insecurity and a hint of fear. She offered him a gentle smile and rubbed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. "You do not have to do this alone. I am right here, with you. We'll go together."

He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. He took a few moments to collect himself and she let him, understanding why this was difficult for him. He was frightened of the outside world, it had not treated him kindly and yet, yet there still was hope. There was good, if you looked hard and close enough. And she would help him and so would Phoebus and Esmeralda. He had those who loved him and cared for him and they would not leave him behind. _She_ would not leave him behind or abandon him. After today, Quasi would never be alone. Not on her life.

Then his eyes fluttered open, new determination and trust swimming brightly within those pale blue orbs. "Very well, together then."

Sophia's smile widened to the point she wondered vaguely if it would extend passed the lines of her face and rested her head against his strong shoulder, still keeping her arms locked about his neck. Quasi leaned down and nuzzled his nose in her curls before raising his head high. He took one last deep, shaky breath, and, together, the two of them stepped into the blinding sunlight of Paris.

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

His eyes instantly dilated at the sudden change in lighting. Everything went white then, slowly, hints of color and shapes poked through and spread across his line of sight. The previous noise had all but ceased and instead, a deafening silence greeted him. He vaguely wondered, for a moment, if perhaps he had stepped through the wrong doorway. That was, until, his sight cleared completely and the all too familiar Parisian square came into focus.

It looked as if all of Paris had suddenly poured itself into the square. Faces of all sorts stared back at him. Old and young. Long and squat. Dirty and clean. Men, woman, children, and even the small, pudgy, round faces of babes gazed at him with the same strange expression. An expression Quasi had never seen before and thus, had no idea how to place. He knew at once it was not fear (for he had become all too familiar with expressions of that sort), yet it was not exactly happiness either. It was more . . . raw. As if each and every one of them had been stripped away of any complex emotion and left to simply being stunned. Quasi did not know how else to describe it.

Unnerved by the sheer number of people staring back at him, Quasi began to question his decision to leave the safety of the cathedral. But before he could turn back and retreat, Esmeralda was by his side. One of her slim, tanned hands reached out to lay against the bicep of his right arm, her thick mass of dark hair wafting slightly as a gentle breeze passed. She turned her head just enough to offer him a warm, encouraging smile, which helped ease some of the nervousness that had settled in his stomach. And then Phoebus stepped forward to flank him on the opposite side, standing tall against the rays of the morning sun, his face devoid of emotion, yet a silent challenge lay behind his hazel eyes, as if daring anyone in the crowd to attack them. His left hand was still tightly wound around Frollo's chains, who, as a matter of fact, was currently being shot dark and thoroughly disgusted looks by some of the members of the crowd.

Coupled with the silence and the unidentifiable looks, Quasi was still nervous as his own eyes flickered through the crowd. Even with the presence of his new found friends, he still did not feel comfortable with what seemed like all of Paris looking at him. There was no jeering, no scowls, no screams, but this, this seemed worse somehow. Worse because he didn't understand what they were truly thinking or feeling. Before, they had no quarrels with voicing their displeasure of him. But now, now he didn't know how to respond to this . . this . . whatever it was. No one moved or even seemed to breathe. They just stood there, watching and looking at him in such a way it was as if they had never seen him or anyone like him before.

And then, the long silence, which to Quasi seemed to stretch out forever, broke.

A long, ear-piercing shriek of grief and despair rang out near the middle of the crowd and then suddenly townspeople were being shoved from one side to the other. A rather small woman in her late thirties, who was now nearing the early stages of middle-age, suddenly burst through the middle of the crowd, a wild look in her dark brown eyes. Her light, brown hair was escaping from what had previously been a neat and tidy bun from the top of her head, falling haphazardly into her face. Her rather thin face looked gaunt and far too worn for someone of her age, but it worsened still when her wild, frightened eyes fell upon the limp figure that lay in Quasi's arms.

"No," The woman whispered desperately in a tiny, hoarse voice. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and her thin frame began to shake violently, her face paling so fast she looked as if it faint. But as suddenly as it came, the vulnerability vanished, only to be replaced with something Quasi was all too familiar with. The woman's expression of horror and loss melted into one of contempt and utter malice. Her face darkened and a rage and hate like nothing he had ever seen in Frollo, filled her brown eyes. She was still shaking, but this time it was not just out of grief. And her rage filled eyes set themselves on him, glaring menacingly and hatefully into Quasi's own terrified orbs.

"You _beast!_" The woman shrieked at him, her voice reaching such high an octave that everyone who stood close to her visibly cringed and scrambled away from her.

Quasi immediately shrunk back, away from the woman out of both fear for himself and concern for the young redhead he held. Fearing that the woman may wish harm upon him, he held Sophia even closer to him. But the woman suddenly came charging up the stone steps, not a care in the world who was watching her. The murderous look in her dark brown eyes frightened him so much that he tried to back away but found, to his own horror, that his legs were frozen in their place.

"You _monster!_ What have you _done_ to her?! What have you done to my _daughter?!_"

**Well, I think this helped moved things a bit. I thin Lea's been out of the picture for far too long. Now, not only do we need for Sophia to heal, now we also have to keep clean to her mother about Sophia's true feelings for Quasi. Not to mention all the drama with Phoebus and her PRETENDING to be married. Oh dear, things are going to be rather chaotic aren't they? Not to worry, things will be sorted. In the end.**

**But poor Quasi! Mother's do tend to be out of control in situations like this. But, we'll see how things come together in the next chapter. See you soon!**


	37. Forgiveness and Redemption

**Hello everyone! I have returned once more! Now this, my friends, is the second to the last chapter. That's right, the end has arrived. After the next update, The Light Within Us will be complete. Now I know it's been a long road and we love Quasi and Sophia and Pascal and Clare, and Gwen and even Lea, yes I have a special fondness for our overbearing mother, but I'm afraid it's getting time to say good bye. Now, there will be a curtain call for all of our characters, Quasi, Sophia, Phoebus, Esmeralda, Lea, Pascal, Clare, Gwen, ect.  
**

**HOWEVER! My friends, every single one of my wonderful and diligent reviews will also have a curtain call all of their own! That's right! Every single one of you will be mentioned. You all have been wonderful and loving and patient and kind and have given me so much. Now I wish to extend that same to you. For without many of you, this story would not exist. Many of you wanted a sequel to Heaven's Light Shines Upon You and this is the result. I can only hope I have done the story justice.**

**Now, enough of my rambling, I'm sure you are all anxious to get on with the show. READ ON! **

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

**Forgiveness and Redemption  
**

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

"Mother, wait -" The young redhead started, suddenly wide-eyed and confused. She shifted slightly in Quasi's arms (which caused much discomfort to the wound in her side), suddenly terrified.

Sophia felt his arms tremble as he stumbled backwards in the attempt to escape her mother's fury. She did not blame him in the slightest. Madame Chevalier stalked towards them with a look of fury on her gaunt-like features, yet underneath all the fury Sophia thought she caught a glimpse of something else. Something she had never before seen in her mother's eyes. Vulnerability. Never before had Madame Chevalier allowed herself to appear anything else but strong, cool, and collective. Never before had she lowered her walls to such a degree of bare, raw emotion. Now, the once strong, composed woman Sophia had known ever since she was a young child, was gone. Lea Chevalier was indeed, at her very wits end.

Yet, if Sophia's mother was aware of this, she did not know or recognize it. Instead, she paid her daughter's words little to no mind, acting rather as if she had not heard her speak at all. Lea resumed her tirade of fury and rage, her voice rose steadier in volume with each word that every Parisian in the crowd (who had been previously mumbling amongst themselves in whispered tones) almost instantly fell silent to watch the exchange.

"Madame," Phoebus intervened, taking a small step forward and extending a placating hand to her, his other still wrapped tightly around Frollo's iron bonds. "Please, now is not -"

"And _you!_" Madame Chevalier growled accusingly, turning her fury on the golden-haired man and glaring daggers. "How dare you stand there and do nothing! How dare you let this . . _this _-!" Here she jabbed a slightly wrinkled finger in Quasi's direction. She was so furious and distraught that she could not find an name adequate enough to call him. Quickly realizing Phoebus was of no help to her, Madame Chevalier returned her attention to the hunchback and resumed shouting. "How dare you touch her! How dare you lay a hand against my daughter!"

"Mother!" Sophia admonished angrily, both shocked and enraged that her mother could even consider Quasi responsible for her physical maladies.

Anger lit up inside her like a torch. She struggled to get down, but Quasi, who had gone as stiff as one of the stone statues carved into the face of the grand cathedral, suddenly came to life and held her tighter in the effort to keep her still. She felt her side twitch again in distress as she struggled, but ignored the flare of pain. She was far too concerned with her mother's hostile behavior and the fear that she would try to hurt Quasi. But he held her fast, his arms becoming bars that she could not break. After a moment or two of trying to free herself, and Quasi's soft but firm whispering for her to lie still, Sophia fell back against his chest defeated. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with her and her side flared angrily. She was making herself worse.

"Lea!" A voice called from amongst the crowd, but Sophia, along with everyone else, did not seem to hear. And yet, the voice sounded vaguely familiar to her.

"Please Madame -" Phoebus again tried to place himself between her and Quasi, but all this accomplished was Madame Chevalier resorting to shouting around the former Captain's shoulder and waving a small fist.

As her mother voice several new threats and insults, the young redhead immediately switched her attention to Quasi. She angled her face, her eyes searching for those of the one held her. But Quasi had ducked his head low and turned his face in the opposite direction so to escape the piercing, hawk eyes of Madame Chevalier. His lock of coarse red hair had once again fallen from behind his ear, creating that all too familiar protective curtain. A tiny gleam of pale blue could be seen peeking out from between the bright strands and even though the orb was mostly obstructed, Sophia could still see the ever growing fear mounting within. He looked to be on the verge of fleeing the scene entirely! A rage of her own rose within her and if she could not move from Quasi's arms, well, she would just have to make due as is.

"How could you even -!" Sophia added her own voice to the shouting, directing her displeasure at her mother while also trying to wave off Quasi's renewed attempts to make her lie quiet and still. "Don't you dare start -!"

But the young redhead was quickly overcome by her mother, who only raised her voice even higher so as to drown out the reasoning of her daughter. The twitch in Sophia's side was steadily growing, but again, Sophia ignored it, no longer concerned with how ill she was beginning to feel.

"I should have known - brutal, that is what you are - not a tame bone in you is there, boy?!" Her mother spat hatefully at Quasi, her face contorting in rage.

Then Madame Chevalier made a sudden, sharp move forward, slipping between Phoebus and Esmeralda (who, before, had thought it better not to involve herself for fear that a gypsy's presence would worsen the situation, but shot forward instantly when she saw the woman move), one of her pale thin hands shot out and made to strike Quasimodo's disfigured face.

"LEA STOP THIS!"

Without warning, a blur of white and brown sprung from the sea of Parisians, darted up the stone steps of Notre Dame, and latched itself around the rage-filled woman, preventing her from reaching her intended target. Startled, Phoebus and Esmeralda jumped backwards just as the blur came inches away from colliding with the both of them. Sophia blinked. It was the baker, Pascal. Her adoptive father. And there, standing at the bottom of the stone steps, was a rather tall, thin woman, her eyes stretched wide with fear and apprehension. It was his wife, Clare.

"Unhand me at once, Pascal!" Madame Chevalier screamed, struggling in the baker's arms.

Everyone watched in stunned silence as the older man tighten his hold around Madame Chevalier, pinning her arms to her sides, while also trying to draw her away (without causing too much harm) from Sophia and Quasi. But under no circumstances was Lea being the least bit cooperative. She thrashed and jerked this way and that, trying to break the baker's hold so as to relaunch her attack on the one who held her daughter.

"Think about what you are doing Lea-!"

"Look at him -! That is my daugh-!"

By now, what hair was left in Madame Chevalier's previously neat bun had come completely undone. Thick locks of light, brown hair fell into the woman's gaunt features and droplets of perspiration slid down her temples, causing the locks to cling to her pale face. Her dark brown eyes glinted dangerously through the strands, thus giving her the appearance of someone completely gone mad.

"And that is Sophia he's holding!" Pascal tried to reason, adjusting one of his arms so as to keep his hold of the woman. "You could ha-"

"Don't you _dare_ berate me!" Madame Chevalier spat venomously, digging her nails deep into his bare forearms in the attempt to free herself.

The young redhead blinked, shocked as the two continued to struggle with the other. Never before had she seen either of them in such states. Her mother, never lost control and, as far as she was aware, Pascal had never physically restrained a woman in such a manner. He wasn't hurting her, no she was doing that herself, but he merely had his arms wrapped tightly around her from behind so her arms were pinned to her sides. If anyone was being hurt, it was Pascal. Her mother's nails had dug so deeply into the flesh of his arms, they were beginning to seep crimson.

"Mother, stop! Stop!" Sophia screamed desperately, tears falling down her cheeks as she watched her family, both adoptive and true, continued to struggle. "Can you not see you are hurting him?! STOP IT!"

"That is quite enough!"

All heads turned to the forgotten figure at the bottom of the steps who was now making her way up to them, her skirts swishing briskly as she climbed.

"Clare." It escaped the young redhead as a whispered breath.

The baker's wife was taller than her husband, and just two years younger, her white blonde hair cascaded freely over her thin shoulders and stopped just passed her shoulder blades. As she approached, Sophia could see the woman's golden amber eyes fall briefly on Quasi's deformed face. She thought she saw a small flicker of fear waver in the woman's orbs but before she could be certain, Clare turned her head away.

"If you have quite finished with making a spectacle of yourself Lea, I suggest you cease using my husband as a knife sharpener." The older woman said tersely, her eyes narrowing sharply at the sight of Pascal's bloodied forearms.

Madame Chevalier paused in her struggling, looking from Clare to Pascal, then to Phoebus and Esmeralda before her eyes finally fell upon her own daughter. Sophia's sky blue eyes meet her mother's dark brown ones and a cold shame began to worm its way through her, clawing icily at her stomach as she saw the worry, deep concern, and even fear buried deep underneath all the fury and rage. The young redhead had worried her mother on a whole different level, well passed what she should have ever have done. This, she felt, would not end well. Not well at all.

"Perhaps," Pascal began slowly, looking between the two Chevalier women, while still retaining his hold on Madame Chevalier for fear if he released her she would resume her attack on Quasi. "We should discuss this elsewhere."

"A fine idea!" Piped Phoebus, who was nervously looking between Quasi and Sophia; Pascal, Clare, and Lea. "Any suggestions?"

"I believe my home is closest." Pascal said, unwinding his arms from the widow while also giving her a pointed look, then he turned and addressed the small group as a whole. "Follow me."

"Right." Phoebus nodded and held out an arm for Clare and Madame Chevalier to pass first, Pascal flanking Lea's other side just in case.

Esmeralda and Quasi, Sophia held firmly in his arms, who was still looking rather nervous and quite frazzled, moved to follow but the ex-Captain held them back.

"There is something I must do before I can join you." Phoebus conveyed, looking rather apologetic. "I will not be long, I promise."

He tugged Frollo, who had been remarkably silent throughout the whole exchange, closer and gave the ex-minister a withering look.

"The Palace of Justice is quite familiar to you, I believe." The golden-haired man began, suddenly taking on a rather frosty tone of voice. "I'm sure you'll feel right at home there."

Phoebus coaxed (and none too gently) the elderly man forward and began the decent to the square below. As Sophia looked on, something tugged at the back of her mind and a strange twinge which had nothing to do with her injuries pulled at her heart. Frollo, without his scarlet tailed hat, without his lustrous black cape, grey hair ruffled, face sporting a rather dark bruise upon one of his hollow cheeks, robes slightly burned and torn, looked, for the lack of a better word, utterly defeated. His grey eyes no longer held the unforgiving steel they once did and he looked remarkably frail underneath the large billowy robes that now seemed to be practically falling off his thin frame. The ex-minister never before seemed so small.

And, to Sophia's own surprise, she found, that deep down, she pitied him. All he had ever accomplished in his time as Minister of Justice was the mastering of fear and manipulation. Holding the law in an iron tight fist and pursuing it severely with the lack of mercy or empathy. Perhaps Frollo himself had never known what it is to be loved wholly and unconditionally. Perhaps his own past was just as sad and dark as Quasi's and that was why he could never fully embrace it. He did not know how. Could Frollo himself, too, be a victim in the search for real love and belonging?

Suddenly, the young redhead felt compelled to do _something_ for the man. Anything at all. Hate had to stop with someone, least it consume all those touched by it.

"Wait."

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's** **POV**_

He halted in his steps, taken aback by Sophia's sudden request to linger. And he was not the only one. Her family, from the foot of the steps, too stopped and turned abruptly on the spot, expressions ranging from puzzled to incredulous clearly worn upon their faces. Even Phoebus, his hold still tight upon the ex-minister's bonds, with Esmeralda at his side, halted and turned around, confusion also on his features. What puzzled Quasi further was, Sophia did not look directly at him when she voiced her request to stay. Her gaze was, instead, fixed upon Claude Frollo! However, before Quasi could inquire as to the reason why, the young woman asked of him a request of a different sort; one he most certainly was not expecting. Nor one he was completely willing to yield to.

"Quasi, please put me down." This time Sophia did turn to look at him, her sky blue eyes solemn and serious. There was something else behind them, but what he could not place.

He hesitated, reluctant to release her from the safety of his arms for fear she would somehow vanish. That she would cease to exist and he would wake to find that all was but dream and he was alone. He also feared that the woman, who he now understood to be Sophia's mother, who had been, and still was, ready to rip the young redhead from him despite her thin frame. He did not want to be anywhere near the woman, nor did he want to lose physical contact with the young woman whom he held. He felt ashamed to admit that Sophia, even in her present state, made him feel safe. Her close presence seemed to expel a kind of unseen protection and, as long as she was not far from him, he had nothing to fear.

"I-I . . ." Quasi trailed off, sparing a quick, uneasy glance at Frollo, who was now looking at Sophia with a rather blank expression.

He was the last person Quasi wanted Sophia even remotely close to right now. Especially after all that the man had inflicted upon her. Yet, when he turned back to the young woman, her face was set in soft determination and her eyes held a sort of pleading. Quasi felt his heart tighten and constrict for several moments, unwilling to give in for fear that Frollo would attempt to harm her again. His mind could not help but flit through all the rather unlikely possibilities that could happen if he relinquished his hold upon her. Yet, never before had he been able to deny her what was in his ability to give.

"Very well." He sighed heavily, reluctance thick in his bell-like tones, which was so quiet, none but Sophia could have heard him.

With the utmost care and gentleness, he lowered the redhead slowly to her feet, not removing his support until she was fully upright and her balance restored. Even so, Quasi could tell her equilibrium had not fully returned. This was proven when she took a careful step forward, wavered on the spot for a moment, then pitched to the side. Quasi's arms shot out so fast that he caught the young woman before she was even halfway falling. No longer trusting her to walk on her own, he swung her up into his arms again and carried her down the steps, ignoring her as she quietly voiced her protests on the matter. He stopped approximately three feet in front on the bound minister and, after giving the man a rather distrusting look, once again set Sophia carefully on her feet. However this time he kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, thus steadying her and preventing her from falling over again.

He watched as Sophia and Frollo simply stared at each other, neither making a move towards the other, yet neither backing away. The ex-minister lowered his head slightly and looked at her with a rather indifferent, unreadable expression. As if he did not wish to truly show what it was he was feeling, if it was anything at all. Sophia too kept her own expression neutral, but her's was less of putting her emotions completely away and more of trying to keep them under control.

"Who are you Frollo?" She finally asked, her voice soft and barely audible. "Is this the man God intended you to be?"

Whatever Frollo was expecting, this clearly was not it. Yet, he retained still his emotionless expression though, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in puzzlement. Quasi, however, could have sworn something flashed in the ex-minister's eyes. It was brief, for in the next moment there was not a trace of whatever it was in the man's gray orbs. Frollo did not answer.

"I do not believe this was the path He intended for you." Sophia continued, her voice still soft and quiet. Her eyes reflected a kind of sadness that comes when looking upon something that no longer has any hope left for itself. "Yet, it is the path you chose to follow. I cannot help you, though I admit, a part of me does not want to."

She took a rather shaky breath and ducked her head low to hide whatever it was that was showing through. Quasi gently rubbed her shoulders, trying to relay some kind of comfort to her. She was not alone. He wanted to draw her away, she did not have to put herself through this. She did not have to confront the former minister. And yet, it seemed to Quasi that Sophia, in her own way, was looking for a kind of closer. An end to a very long nightmare.

The young redhead raised her head and looked the man in the eyes, a new kind of strength in them. "Yet, I know you do. But, whatever help I can give you would not be enough, nor I think, _could_ ever be enough," Another pause. "I-I do not forgive you. Perhaps, in time, I will. But now," She faltered and Quasi could feel her shoulders begin to shake. "Now all I want is for this to end. And you, Frollo, what is it that you want?"

Again, Frollo did not answer. He just looked at her with the same blank expression, and yet, _something _flickered in the old man's eyes. Something that had nothing to do with the cold, unfeeling steel that usually shone there.

"There is nothing I can do for you." Now Sophia's soft voice was beginning to shake and Quasi could tell she was fighting back tears. "If it was in my power to do so, I'm not sure I would. I truly don't know." She bowed her head once more, but this time she lifted her hands and pulled something over her head. It was a simple, silver medallion on a rather thin chain, also of silver. There was some sort of image engraved upon it but it was too far away for Quasi's eyes to discern. "But, I can give you this."

She held it out for Frollo to receive. "It's not much, if anything really."

For a moment, the chain swung slowly back and forth between them. Sophia made no move to take it back and yet, Frollo made no move to accept it either. Several, long, drawn out moments passed while Quasi, Phoebus, Esmeralda, and Sophia's family stared at the two, their gazes flitting back and forth between them. Watching. Waiting. Anticipation and apprehension hung in the air, like a sword waiting to fall. And then, the unthinkable happened.

Claude Frollo, the former Minister of Justice, persecutor of hundreds of gypsies and murderer of several innocents, slowly closed his now defeated, steel gray eyes, and bowed his head low.

Phoebus' eyebrows shot so high on his brow that they nearly disappeared into his golden hair. Esmeralda blinked owlishly at the old man, her emerald eyes stretched so wide that they rather resembled dinner plates. Madame Chevalier simply gaped and both Clare and Pascal wore expressions of complete surprise and utter disbelief. Quasi's own reaction was one of severe shock and bewilderment. He blinked rapidly for a moment or two then shook his head slightly as if to clear the sight from his eyes. Of all the things he expected of his former master this was not one of them.

Sophia, who was certainly surprised in her own right, on the other hand, took this with slightly more tact and composure. She took a deep breath, then slowly drew nearer to the ex-minister, slipping out of Quasi's support entirely, before placing the medallion over his head and letting it fall against the older man's chest. Frollo raised his head and merely looked at her, his expression unreadable once more. And yet, something had changed. For deep in Frollo's steel gray eyes, something flickered in the light of the sun. It looked like . . . vulnerability? Fear?

Before Quasi could pinpoint the emotion completely, the older man closed his eyes in a rather tired way and for the first time since his capture, he spoke. "Lead on, Captain."

Frollo's voice was so small and so quiet, Quasi barely heard him. Phoebus, gathering his composer, and shaking his head to bring himself back to reality, straighten himself to his full height, offered Quasi, Sophia, and Esmeralda (along with Sophia's family) a brisk dip of his head, and, this time much more gently, lead Frollo away through the crowd in the direction of the Palace of Justice. Frollo's tyrannical rein over Paris, France had finally come to an end.

As Quasi watched the man he had once, early on in his years, called father being lead away, he felt a sense of loss. Frollo, for the better part of his life, had been the only family he had ever known. He had been a father, a caretaker, a teacher, a source of comfort and truth. Yet, seeing the man he truly was, was painful. To come to know that all his life he had been lied to, deceived and manipulated by the one person he felt he could place his most absolute trust in . . . it hurt. It hurt to know that Frollo had, if ever, no love for Quasi in the slightest. Or if he did, that love withered and crumbled long ago. Quasi could not help but wonder, what family did he possess now? What comfort was there in knowing that the sole being who raised you, was to no longer be apart of his life?

Despite Frollo's actions, terrible and horrible and cruel as they were, Quasi wished there had been a way to turn back time to a place where Frollo had loved him. Truly loved him. He wanted to be someone's pride. Someone's joy. He wanted to be someone's son. And now, who's son was he? Clearly not Frollo's.

A small pale hand suddenly fell upon his arm, gentle and soft, and when he turned to look, Sophia was by his side. A sad sort of smile tugged at her lips and her brilliant, sky blue eyes glittered faintly with unshed tears. Without a word, she slipped her oh so tiny hand into his great, large one and intertwined her fingers with his, giving them a small, gentle squeeze. Then she moved as close as her wounded side would allow and leaned against his shoulder where her head came to rest.

"You are not alone anymore, Quasi." Her soothing voice was barely above a whisper. "No matter what happens, you will never be alone."

Tears instantly sprung to his eyes. He looked at her for what felt like a very long time, unable to speak. She had been with him almost as long as Frollo had been. For ten years he had known her. For ten years loneliness had become almost nonexistent. She was his friend. His very first friend. She had never left him if she could help it. When he needed someone, for whatever reason, she had always been there. How was it was this person, this wonderful, beautiful person, existed? What had he ever done to deserve such a companion? Frollo, the one he called father, the one Quasi believed would always be there for him, was gone. Yet, Sophia remained. Here she stood, by his side, just as she always been.

As long as she remained, standing here with him, Quasi knew he would never feel the cool touch of loneliness again.


	38. Healing

**Okay, you know how I said this was going to be the last chapter? Well, it's not. I know, I know, but it appears I have a bit more to explore than I thought. Despite how long this chapter is. A boy! Long chapter is long! 5,933 words total not including author's notes. Anyway, so expect one more chapter after this and maybe *cough* something a bit extra after that! Sorry, can't say what that might be, but I do believe everyone will enjoy it. Stay tuned!**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

**Healing **

_**Third Person**_

_**Sophia's POV**_

For a moment, all hung in peaceful silence. Sophia could feel that whatever strength she had regained from being immobile for the past several minutes, was gone. She was exhausted. Confronting Frollo had not just been emotionally tiring, it had also been physically so. It was as if someone had removed all the bones in her legs, it was so hard to keep upright. She leaned heavily against Quasi's side, knowing that she had not the strength to do so herself. All she wanted was to sleep. Just sleep. The young redhead briefly wondered if she would ever be able to move again.

"Sophia?"

Quasi's gentle, bell-like tones broke through her thoughts and she tilted her head slightly to look at him.

"Hmm?" Was all she could muster to ask.

He smiled that small, gentle smile of his and said softly, "Come, let us bring you home."

"Home." She nodded slowly in agreement, her eyes beginning to drift. "Home sounds nice."

Suddenly she was lifted off her feet and into an all to familiar pair of arms. This was beginning to be quite a habit. Far too exhausted to fight, she snuggled deeper into Quasi's arms and closed her eyes. Surely it would be alright if she just rested for a while?

"Sophia," Quasi shook her slightly, his tone coming across more firm than before. "You must try to stay awake."

She groaned. She didn't _want_ to be awake. "Must I?"

"I am afraid so," Quasi replied gently, sympathy and a hit of worry in his voice.

She sighed heavily and forced her lids open a crack. "Better?"

"It is an improvement." Yet she could hear the doubt and concern beneath the statement.

They began to pick their way through the crowd, Esmeralda and her family at either side (Lea was forced between Pascal and Clare, just in case). Their fellow Parisians parted and made no move to stop them, letting them pass without incident. Yet, Sophia couldn't help but notice that something was different about them. Their expressions were softer, kinder, though she had the distinct feeling it was not because of her or her physical state. In fact, most of them barely glanced her way. Rather, they seemed to be gazing at . . . Quasi. It was Quasi they were looking at. They no longer gazed at him with disgust or fear. They did not jeer or shout at him as he passed. Nor did they flinch away when he looked at them. Then, suddenly, something purple and gold flashed just out of the corner of Sophia's vision. When she turned to see what it was, she smiled widely.

Atop one of the poles left over from the festival, still bearing the remains of the colorful banners that once hung there, was the infamous King of the Gypsies himself. Dressed in his trademark jester's costume and extravagant purple hat complete with golden feather, the man leaned out over the crowd and threw out an arm in a rather wild motion.

"Three cheers, for Quasimodo!" Clopin Trouillefou crowed triumphantly, a mischievous grin spread wide across his dark features.

Sophia did not know who began it, but someone, somewhere, took up a rallying cry. Then two more voices joined. Then ten. Ten became twenty. Twenty became fifty. Fifty became a hundred. No matter where she turned, everywhere she looked, Parisians and gypsies alike were cheering and reaching over to thump Quasi on the back. A burly man with a small black beard and mustache reached over them and ruffled his hair playfully, offering them a wide, friendly grin. An elderly woman in a graying shawl came up and patted his cheek, a gentle smile upon her face. But, perhaps, the most touching of all, was when a small child, no more than the age of seven, slowly drew away from her mother and came forward.

She stopped just in front of Quasi, her head tilted to the side in a rather curious expression. Then she carefully leaned around Sophia, who was still being held by Quasi, and reached out tentatively with one of her small hands for him. She hesitated for a moment, as if not sure whether or not to continue, then mustered as much courage as she was able and gently pressed her tiny hand against Quasi's cheek. Sophia remained as still as possible, focused solely on the little girl and the reaction of her friend. At first, he made a motion as if to pull away, but then he stilled himself. As the child's hand traced the contours of his face, Sophia watched as Quasi heaved a great sigh and then relaxed in the child's hold. Then the little girl did something else, pulling herself up on her tiptoes and, with her other hand, she reached up and embraced him as much as she was able.

Sophia felt tears well up and spill over as Quasi (with tears of his own spilling down his cheeks) accepted the embrace and leaned into the little girl's hands. The young redhead couldn't help but reach over herself and wrap her own arms, not just around Quasi, but around the little girl who had been able to look past the face and see the gentle giant that was her friend. The child then pulled away, took a fistful of Quasi's tunic, and proceeded to lead both of them through the rest of the crowd, which had once again erupted into cheers and joyous shouts. Quasi was again pounded on the back with approval and many came forward to touch his face in curiosity. All were gentle and kind. No longer did the people of Paris seem frighten by him.

A few stood back, casting wary glances upon him but Quasi did not seem to notice. He was too overwhelmed with those who now showed him acceptance. But Sophia noticed. She saw the disapproval in which they looked at him, but then, she had always known there would be those too consumed with their own fear to fully accept him. She knew this, yet it still hurt to know that some would never change. It took several more minutes, but finally, the small group was able to break free of the cheering crowd and make their way to Pascal's home. However, just as the group made to pass through the gate that lead into the square, a rather thin, elderly woman with snow white hair and wrapped in a threadbare shawl, broke free of the crowd and ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards them.

"Wait! Esmeralda! Wait!"

_**Third Person**_

_**Quasi's POV**_

He turned. A tiny, thin elderly woman was making her way towards them, her hair coming almost completely out of what had been a previously neat bun. When she was close, Esmeralda suddenly darted towards the woman and gave her a brief hug.

"Gwen! Are you well, my friend?" Esmeralda asked concerned, looking the woman up and down for any sign of injury.

"Of course, dear girl!" The elder replied, her tone brisk. She straightened herself and repositioned her shawl about her shoulders in the effort to look respectable. "But she," Gwen pointed a gnarled finger in his direction and it took Quasi a moment to realize it was Sophia she was pointing at. "Is not. You will need as many hands as you can, Esmeralda. That wound is severe. She will not last without proper and quick treatment."

Quasi felt his heart give a painful skip. Sophia was still very hurt and needed to be healed as quickly as possible. Infection had most likely already set in. He glanced down at the young woman in his arms, who was indeed still awake though appearing a bit pale. She kept her gaze focused on some spot on his tunic, as if trying to block all else out. Quasi felt she was doing this in order to keep herself calm.

"Your help is most welcome, Gwen." Said Esmeralda, worry of her own was beginning to show on her face. "Come then, we must hurry if we are to prevent further damage."

Without another word, both gypsies took off out of the gate, Pascal and Clare on their heels so as direct them properly to their home. Quasi followed just behind, trying not to move too fast yet also concerned with the amount of time they had. Not to be left behind, Lea Chevalier caught up and kept pace with him. Every now and then she would send her daughter a deeply worried look, but then that look would turn into a cross between fury and, what appeared to Quasi, the need to burst into tears. The woman's presence made him feel severely uncomfortable and frightened but he knew that he could not deny her the chance to be physically close to her daughter. Sophia was not at all well and her mother had the right to be beside her, despite the way she kept shooting him withering looks.

The way to Pascal's bakery and home, was not a far journey. They reached the front door much quicker than Quasi thought and by the time he and Lea had caught up, Pascal had the door ready for them.

"Quickly!" Clare ushered them inside and directed Lea to a small room to their right, then turned to Quasi. "Up the stairs, first door on the left. Esmeralda and Gwen are preparing the room."

Quasi gave the tall woman a quick nod and bounded up the stairs as fast as he was able without hurting Sophia. Oddly enough, she had been fairly calm and had remained quiet, not saying a word. She just kept her eyes focused on that same spot on his tunic. Now he felt her beginning to tremble. She was frightened.

"Quasi?" Her voice shook, and was far smaller than he would have liked.

"Yes Sophia?" He tried to keep his own voice even, but was not sure he succeeded. He passed the landing and began the second small set of steps.

"I'm afraid."

It was two words he had not heard since they were young children. He paused for a moment just short of the top of the stairs. He felt his heart skip several beats and his own fear threatened to overtake him. He inwardly shook himself. He needed to remain calm. Sophia needed reassurance, though he was not certain if there was any he could give her.

"All will be well," was what he found himself saying. He brought her closer to him and tightened his arms around her, as if to fill her with his strength. He placed his cheek against the top of her curly head, trying to relay as much comfort as possible. "All will be well."

Then the reality of her condition came back and Quasi leaped up the last few steps and carried her into the room in which Clare had directed. It was small, only a bed, a wardrobe, a small trunk, and a bedside table occupied the room. The bed was pushed against a bay window, white curtains drawn to prevent those outside seeing into the room. Gwen and Esmeralda bustled about with bowls of water, vials of liquids he did not recognize, and a pile of herbs lay across the top of the bedside table. Esmeralda was the first to notice him.

"Put her on the bed Quasi, hurry." The ebony-haired woman walked around the bed and pulled back the covers, before going over to the bedside table and resuming her work.

Quasi hurried to do as she asked, crossing the room quickly and laying the young redhead down on the soft surface. Once he had done so, the elder of the two women took hold of his upper arms and began to pull him away.

"Wait!" He begged, suddenly afraid to leave Sophia's side. "I wish to stay."

Esmeralda looked up from her work on the bedside table, a sad expression on her face.

"Quasi," She began gently, putting down the knife she was using to chop herbs. She crossed over to him and relieved Gwen, who went over to the table to restart what Esmeralda had left. Esmeralda placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her emerald eyes apologetic. "You cannot stay."

"But-" He began, but this time Gwen cut him off.

"I don't think the girl would want you to see her like this, boy." She said sharply, her beady eyes piercing him. "And we do not have the time to argue. Out." She pointed at the door. "Now."

A cold wave of fear washed over him. He did not want to leave. Not like this. What if something happened? What if he was not here when she needed him? What if-? What if she-? And he was not here to say good-bye? What if this was to be the last time he saw her? No! He could not leave! Not when she needed him the most!

"Quasi!" Esmeralda's voice had only been sharp with him once and oddly enough the last time was also when Sophia had been hurt. "There is nothing you can do for her at this point. What you can do is go downstairs and allow Gwen and I to heal her."

He looked from Esmeralda to Sophia, then back again. The indecision was eating away at him.

"Please, Quasi?" The ebony-haired woman asked, this time much softer. "I understand what you are feeling right now. Truly, I do. But the best thing you can do is let us try and help her."

"V-very well." He relented, his tone defeated and very near tears. In fact, tears were already streaming down his face.

He turned to leave but found that he could not do so, not without-

Before either woman could prevent him, Quasi turned about and knelt in front of the bed. Sophia's eyes had closed. When that had occurred he knew not. He leaned over and smoothed her thick, cooper curls away from her face and whispered in a low, shaky voice. "I will be here when you wake. I promise. I will not break my word again."

Then he rose, equally as shaky, and slowly drew out of the room, closing the door behind him. But not before casting one final backward glance at Sophia still form. For a moment, all time seemed to stop. Nothing existed but her. And yet, it was time, Quasi realized, that they must now fight against. It was a battle that Sophia had to fight. Alone. As the door clicked in place, Quasi found himself unable to move. His ears roared with sound, yet he knew there was none save for the movement from the room he had just left and the sign of life on the floor below him. Without warning, Quasi felt all the strength in his body leave him all at once and he sunk to the floor in utter exhaustion. As he lay there, sprawled across the floor, he wondered how it had all come to this. How, in such a short time, had all he ever cared about been torn away from him? Sophia did not deserve this. She should have never had to feel such pain.

She deserved a life of peace and comfort. Of love and kindness. And yet, all she had ever known when exposed to him was pain, worry, and strife. By knowing who and what Quasi was, by becoming his friend, by _defending_ him, it had caused _this_. _He_ did this to her. This was his fault. He exposed her to Frollo's wrath and she had paid the price for it. And all because he wanted a friend. The tears flowed faster. He truly was a monster. He had almost caused the person he had ever come to love, yes, love, to met a horrible fate.

_She still may. _He thought bitterly.

He hated himself.

He thought all this as he lay sprawled across the floor, tears streaming down his face. He had no strength left anymore. He was so tired. His eyes fluttered and then exhaustion claimed him, falling into a deep sleep on the very floor in which he collapsed upon.

_Monster._

**_Third Person_**

**_Phoebus' POV_**

"And I can assure you, your previous position will be returned to you. That is, if you so wish it."

"Yes," Replied Phoebus formally, bowing his head respectively. It would be wonderful being back in armor again. "Thank you, sir."

He was standing on the steps of the Palace of Justice conversing with an official sent by the King himself. He had just finished turning Frollo into the higher authorities who had caught wind of the riot just hours ago and had come down to restore order. Of course, upon discovering the Minister of Justice himself had been behind the whole incident did not settle well with them. The royal official now had to appoint a new minister promptly so that a sense of order could be established without more mayhem ensuing. The last thing Paris needed was petty criminals moving up in the absence of a Minister of Justice.

However, Frollo not the only one being convicted. Several of the soldiers were also being incarcerated due to their immense support of the former minister. Among these soldiers was the man who had attacked Sophia on both occasions. Once at the festival and the other down in the catacombs when they had gone to warn the gypsy people of Frollo's plan. Phoebus was pleased to find that the two soldiers who had 'greeted' him at the gates the very first time he had returned to Paris were also being dealt with. While they would not be facing the same charges, they were however going to spend some time in the dungeons.

For now, the main concern was finding a new Minister of Justice.

"I do not suppose you would be interested in the position, Captain?" Asked the official, stroking his graying beard and giving him a pondering look.

Phoebus, who had turned to leave, looked back over his shoulder and shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I'm sorry sir, but I don't believe the position is one I would hold up well. I'm sure there's someone more qualified then I am."

"I see," sighed the official, adjusting his spectacles. "I suppose we shall fill position eventuality. However, if there is someone you believe is adequate for the position, please, do inform me."

Phoebus nodded, "I shall, sir."

"Very well," said the official, peering down at the piece of parchment in his hands. "I do believe that is all. Oh! Yes, there is one more issue Captain."

"Sir?" asked Phoebus, puzzled, turning back once again.

"Yes, well," The official shifted nervously and glanced about him to see if there were any prying eyes. "There is the predicament of Claude Frollo's horse."

"His horse?" Now Phoebus was really puzzled. What did the horse have to do with him?

"Yes, you see, the beast won't let anyone near it." The official explained sheepishly, he appeared to Phoebus to be regretting ever bringing up the subject. "I was wondering if there was anyone you could think of who could handle the beast?"

Phoebus raised a hand to his chin and rubbed his stubble in deep thought. "Have the soldiers been trying to subdue it?"

The official looked at him as if the answer was obvious. "But of course Captain! The beast is huge! It's temper is out of control!"

"Frollo's horse has never liked soldiers." Phoebus explained carefully, not sure if being completely honest with this was a good thing. "It distrusts every one of them. It tolerates me, but only so much."

"I see," the man looked down at his parchment again. "Is there anyone you believe could take it? If not, I do not see anyone going near it. Unless something is done about the animal, I'm afraid I'll have to have it destroyed."

As much as Phoebus himself disliked the horse, he knew that with a proper owner the animal could be much calmer. He himself could not take it because he already had Achilles, who had never liked Frollo's horse to begin with and would absolutely despise him for the rest of his life if he took in another horse. Especially Frollo's. The now reestablished Captain continued to ponder the quarry until a brilliant, yet maddening idea came to mind. It was a long shot and he didn't not know if the person would completely agree or not, but Phoebus was sure he could convince them.

"Wait, sir. I think I might know someone who would be willing to take him in, but I need to speak with them first. How long before you think you can no longer accommodate the animal?"

"Two weeks maximum Captain," replied the official. "After that amount of time, I'm sorry to say something must be done about the beast."

"Thank you, sir." Phoebus dipped his head again. "I believe that is more than enough time."

"Good day, Captain. I expect you back at your post in one week's time."

"Yes, sir." Phoebus straightened himself to his full height and saluted the official sharply.

"Until next we met." And with a swish of his robes, the official disappeared through the double back doors.

Phoebus exhaled heavily, then bounded down the steps where Achilles was waiting patently, tethered to a post.

"Well Achilles," He began cheerfully. "What do you think of giving a certain special woman a horse?"

. . . .

"Hello?" Phoebus called as he opened the door to Pascal's home and stepped inside. "Esmeralda?"

The portly baker suddenly appeared through a door off his right. He looked tired and worn, despite being about the same age as Madame Chevalier. Pascal opened the door wider and gestured for Phoebus to enter. "Right through here, Captain. The two gypsies are upstairs still. They haven't let anyone in since the boy brought Sophia up."

"How long ago?" Asked Phoebus, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, as he shut the front door.

He followed the baker into the room which appeared to be a den of sorts. They were not alone. Clare, Pascal's wife, was seated in a rather comfortable but worn looking armchair by the fire, a half-finished knitted article of sorts in her lap. She looked up from her needlework and made to stand, but Phoebus extended a hand and waved her down.

"Oh, don't get up on my account Madame. I am quite fine."

She froze, as if not sure to take his word as truth or not. However, she nodded in response and sat back down, her needles resuming their work.

"This was about thirty or so minutes ago." answered the baker, taking a seat on a small stool.

Phoebus remained standing.

"I see," He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, exhaustion was finally catching up with him.

"Perhaps you should lie down dear," suggested Clare from her chair. She was watching him with troubled eyes.

"No, no." The Captain protested gently, raising his head and blinking away the exhaustion. "Thank you Madame, but no. I think its best if I remain conscious. At least, for the time being. How is Quasi?"

He cast his eyes about the small room, thinking perhaps he had not noticed the boy when he first entered. However, it only took one sweep for Phoebus to realize the boy was not with them. "Where is he, if I may ask?"

The balding baker opened his mouth to answer him but a much different voice cut him off.

"Do not speak of that creature in my presence."

He would not have noticed her if he had not have been looking. In the far left corner of the room, sitting on a small stool and looking more than a bit worse for ware, was Madame Lea Chevalier. He piercing brown eyes bore into Phoebus' hazel ones with such bitterness and resentment that he had to force himself to stay still.

"Ah, Madame." Phoebus nodded his head in her direction in an attempt to use chivalry as a way to break the invisible barrier between them, but it did not seem to have much affect. "I can understand that this is a difficult tim-"

"Don't talk to me as if you understand!" Lea screamed, jumping to her feet and waving her arms frantically. "That _monster_ is the reason my daughter, my _only_ daughter, is upstairs fighting for her life! He did this to her!"

Phoebus' hazel eyes harden instantly at her words and when he spoke his voice was equally matched. "Madame, calm yourself. I have no doubt that Sophia will make a full recovery."

"SILENCE!" The woman bellowed, no longer caring for those working upstairs. "And you! I cannot fathom how you factor into all this! You are her intended! Do something! Lock that creature away so he can't harm someone else's daughter! Defend her honor!"

Despite his understanding of why the woman was becoming hysterical, Phoebus had long since passed the patience for voices being raised at him. Especially when the woman's words contained slights against his friends.

"And I shall defend Sophia till my dying day! But what you fail to realize that I am not the one she loves! That _monster_," Here Phoebus spat the word as if it was poison. Quasi was no more a monster than Phoebus was cobbler. "Has done nothing but protect her and care for her throughout all of this! He has done nothing more to harm her than I have! I would not be surprise if I found him an emotional mess because of this!"

"That creature has no idea of love!" Lea countered, her voice full of scorn and hate. Then her face paled as she fully took in his words and her whole form began to shake.

"What are you saying?" She asked slowly, her voice was barely above a whisper and her eyes were full of panic. "No. How could that thing-? It is not possible. When? How?"

Phoebus feel his anger calm, yet the adrenaline still remained. His heart raced and his breathing had yet to even out. It was then that he noticed the pale faces or not only Madame Chevalier, but also of Pascal and Clare, who were now standing. All three of them were staring at him in a mixture of horror, shock, and disbelief. Though the horror was more on Lea's part than the baker or his wife. He ran a hand roughly through his hair before glancing about for a chair or stool, any place at all to sit. Noticing a spare stool in the corner nearest him, Phoebus dragged it over and sat down. He then advised the three to do the same. Pascal and Clare did so willingly, but Madame Chevalier took a bit more coaxing. Finally, she complied.

"What is this about, Captain?" Asked Pascal, not quite as bit as welcoming as he previously had been. He sounded much more cautious and gazed at Phoebus with a look of distrust. "What has . . the boy . . have to do with our Sophia?"

"There is much I do not know," Phoebus began carefully, eying each of them with caution. "Nor understand. However, what I do know, is that Sophia and Quasi are friends. And, they have been so for a very long time."

"That is a lie!" Lea protested loudly, jumping to her feet once again, her face red with anger. "My daughter has never met him! Nor could she!"

"LEA SIT DOWN!" Pascal roared, forgoing any sort of tact. His patience for the woman had finally run out.

Startled by Pascal's out of character behavior, Lea stumbled backwards and collapsed on her stool. If it was at all possible, she looked just a bit paler.

"Now Captain," said Clare, eying Lea carefully out of the corner of her eye. "Please, tell us what it is you _do_ know."

_**Third Person **_

_**Esmeralda's POV**_

She sighed. She was exhausted. It had taken the better part of an hour to treat all the cuts and bruises. Of course, the worse injury of all had taken the longest. Infection had indeed set in, however, with the number of ointments and cleansing oils that Gwen was famous for, they estimated the infection would clear in about a week to a week and a half. She was not going to lie, it was going to be a long recovery for the young woman. She would not be allowed out of bed for roughly three or four weeks. And that is if all went well and ran it's natural course. If the infection persisted, it could be longer.

"I daresay you might as well find the boy." Gwen pipped up from the wash basin in the corner. "Can't imagine what he may be doing."

Esmeralda nodded in agreement. Quasi was probably the first person they should tell, not because her family did not deserve to know, but because they may prevent him from seeing Sophia all together. Her mother most certainly was a threat to him and in Esmeralda's opinion, a danger to anyone who got in her way. She was someone even Esmeralda did not wish to anger and she feared very few people. With, of course, the exception of Frollo. She sighed. She had not rested for such a long time, sleep indeed, sounded very welcoming.

"Most likely worrying about Sophia. I shall retrieve him."

The ebony-haired woman finished drying the knife she was holding and put it back in it's case. How Gwen managed to lug her medicinal case about she did not know. She always had it on her though it never showed. Esmeralda often joked that Gwen's shawl swallowed everything it touched and that all the older woman had to do was reach into it and pull whatever she needed out of it. After she was finished tidying her work station, she headed for the door. Opening the door, she was just about to step into the hallway when she noticed something lying across the doorway.

It was Quasimodo.

**_Third Person_**

**_Quasi's POV_**

He awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked. Colors swirled, shapes blurred, then all cleared. Esmeralda was kneeling over him, a deeply concerned expression upon her face.

"Quasi! Oh thank goodness!" She exclaimed, she leaned over and embraced him, though he was not sure why she felt the need to do so. "Are you well? Why are you laying on the floor?"

Before he could even have the chance of answering, the ebony-haired woman pressed the back of her hand to his cheeks and neck.

"No fever. And it does not appear that you have any contusions to the head."

"Esmeralda I am well." Quasi reassured her as he pushed himself upright, stumbling slightly as he did so. "I was quite tired. I am afraid all the excitement caught up with me."

He blushed as he remembered how weak and exhausted he felt before he collapsed. And how guilty he felt for Sophia's present condition. SOPHIA! Before Esmeralda could protest further about his own health, Quasi forwent any other thought except for the young redhead.

"Sophia! How is she? Has she woken? How are her wounds? She is not-?"

"Quasi calm yourself." Esmeralda interrupted firmly, her hands coming up to clamp down on his shoulders. She gave him a hard look before continuing. "Sophia is well. No, she has not woken. Her wounds are minor, save for the one at her side. That is where most of our concerns lie and will also be her most difficult challenge to overcome. Her life is no longer in danger, that is unless the infection becomes worse."

"Infection?" Quasi's voice wavered upon the word, his fears returning tenfold.

Esmeralda recognized the panic that lay behind his eyes and gave him a sharp shake. "Quasi, listen to me. I cannot let you see her if you cannot rein in your emotions. Sophia is still asleep but she will sense your panic and therefore it will cause her distress. Do you understand?"

He nodded slowly, trying to focus on Esmeralda's words. She was right. Sophia needed rest and peace. If he continued like this he would make her worse. The last thing he wanted to do cause her more pain. Esmeralda said that her life was no longer in any danger. She was well, or as well as she could be. Sophia was going to live. She would recover.

"How long?"

"About a month." Esmeralda replied carefully, still eying him as if the answer would send him further into panic. "If the infection clears. If it persists, the recovery will take longer. Gwen says that she's extremely healthy though. She even has hope that the infection will clear in less than a week."

Quasi couldn't stop the ghost of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No matter the ailment, she always recovered far sooner than others believed."

Esmeralda broke into a full wide smile. "Then she will no doubt surprise us all."

"May I see her?" Quasi asked, his heart swelling with hope.

"Very well." The ebony-haired woman relented. "But you must remain calm Quasi. Sophia cannot heal if she is exposed to extreme stress."

She stepped back and allowed Quasi to enter the room. Paying no attention to the other woman inside, he made a beeline for Sophia's side. A stool was already sitting beside her and Quasi guessed that they had been prepared for him asking to see her. As he sat down, he heard the door close directly behind him and judging by the silence, he was the only one left in the room. Taking a deep breath, he focused his attention on the only thing that mattered. Sophia.

Her small form was wrapped tightly in many blankets, four at the very least, it seemed. Once again, her skin had lost it's healthy color, causing the dark freckles on her face to stand out. Thankfully however, her skin did not appear as pale as it could have been. Her breathing was normal, for her chest rose and fell in it's standard rhythmical pattern. Occasionally her eyes would shift beneath her lids, as if experiencing a dream or memory that he could not see. He wondered briefly if it was a bright, happy dream she was seeing or a dark, fearful one which she would rather not. His heart clenched at that. He did not want her to see anymore darkness. No more fear. She had seen enough.

Tentatively, Quasi raised a large hand and tucked several stray cooper curls behind her ear. As he did so, the pads of his fingers brushed along the contour of her ear. He stilled his hand almost instantly, slightly startled at feeling just how smooth and soft it was. He wondered if that was what his own had felt like when she had done the same to him. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the memory. Once her hair was tucked neatly away, Quasi folded his arms atop the covers and let his head rest upon them, keeping his head tilted towards her sleeping figure. No matter what, he would be here when she awoke. He promised.

And this time, he aimed to keep it.

**Yes, I thought it would be sweet to reverse the ear touching thing for Quasi. I never thought about ears. I guess it's cute in my opinion. I don't know, maybe I have a thing for ears. Who knows. So, how did this chapter turn out? Well I hope. I rather like this one. Now, there are only two guesses on who gets Frollo's horse! I always wondered what happened to the poor beast. In my opinion he was never a bad horse, he just had a rotten owner. I'm sure in the right hands he would be a Black Beauty.**

**So there's that and then of course I rather enjoyed the scene with Phoebus and Lea. I really do like Lea, in the end I think she'll come around. But you will just have to wait and find out now won't you? Any concerns or complaints? I know I kept dragging out Sophia's injuries and I'm sorry. This time all is taken care of and she's officially on the mend. Speaking of officials, I thought it best to address the issue that was left out in the movie.**

**Just who the heck replaces Frollo?! No one knows! I also like the idea of Phoebus being offered the position but turning it down. I think it adds more to his character. So I'll work out a replacement. So Frollo's in jail living with the consequences of his actions along with several of his goons. I do have a further plan for Frollo, so stay tuned!**

**Also, just to be clear, Sophia does NOT forgive Frollo. Not yet. In time, but not now. It's still too fresh. Many of my reviewers were going on about her being a far better Christian than themselves but I think we got confused. She gave Frollo an item of religion because she does feel pity for him and even though she doesn't forgive him and is still angry with the fact he tried to kill her friends, she also doesn't want the cycle of hate and revenge to continue. So she's being the bigger person and laying her cards on the table and waving the white flag. It does make her a better person, but remember, she's not perfect. Nor is she trying to be a glorified Christian. **

**I think that's about it. Just know there is one more chapter and then, keep an eye out for something special after that.**


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